


Prisoner of fate

by Laudys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 31,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laudys/pseuds/Laudys
Summary: Looking through the childhood of the characters, and the trials they are going through. She is Aylis Tully, last born of Hoster Tully and Minisa Went (Original character). He is Stannis Baratheon, younger brother of Robert Baratheon. They have nothing in common and tho, their fates will be closely linked.





	1. Prologue

275 AC  
« Lord Hoster ! »  
The maester rushes out of the room : lord Hoster Tully is here, waiting, with his brother Brynden. The castle is silent, but when he gets in the room, he can hear whimpers. A fire is crackling in the chimney. Handmaids are taking care of a pink and whimpering baby. Hoster holds back a huge smile and turns proudly to his wife, Minisa. That’s when he loses his smile. The handmaids rushes on and off her, putting towels under her. Towels that are stained with red. The more towels they place under her, the more they have to throw them away seconds later. Minisa, weakly, holds her hand at her husband. He sits by her, takes her soft hands and lays a long kiss on them.   
“I… I think it’s over…” she says, her pale face enlightened slightly by the red flames.   
Hoster stares at her, unable to react: Minisa had always been pretty frail but she always gave birth bravely. He cannot resolve himself to think she is going to die now. They already been through this: she had already lost two sons, before Catelyn. Catelyn, who adores her mother. How is he going to cope with the children without her? He closes his eyes, chasing this thought off his mind. She cannot die. She cannot leave him alone. The baby starts crying, and he turns his face to it.   
“It’s a girl”, she whispers weakly. “I wish it had been a son, but the Gods decided otherwise.”  
She tries to smile and winces, asks for water. A handmaid holds a cup for her and she drinks lengthily before leaning her head back on the pillow. Hoster looks back at her, remembering the first time he had seen her. How beautiful she was. She still is beautiful, even now, when she is so pale blood looks like it has been out of her, when her hair is spreading on the white pillow, messy hair, locks sticking to her brow because of sweat, when her eyes are losing little by little their shine. He tries to reassure her:  
“I am happy as long as the baby is healthy.”  
It is a lie: he is not happy. He would give the baby’s life for hers anytime.   
“We need to find a name”, she says, a smile roving on her lips.   
The maester gives the baby to her and she holds her the best she can. She smiles warmly when she holds her:  
“She has your eyes”, she tells Hoster Tully.   
He nods, unable to look at the baby. He should be celebrating now, not mourning over the dead of his wife.   
“Where are the children?” she asks suddenly.   
“In their rooms”, Hoster replies.   
“Please make them come. I want to see them one last time.”  
He nods and stands up, not able to argue. He sees her grabbing the blankets to hide the blood. His eyes filled with tears, he walks out the room. Brynden is here. He does not say a word to him, just walks to the children’s rooms.   
“What is it?” Brynden walks with him.  
“She’s dying”, Hoster coldly says.   
The two brothers have stopped being close as they used to be when they were children. Hoster had become the head of the house Tully and he has told his brother he had to marry. He tried to betroth him to several women, but Brynden always refused. He never gave reasons; he just didn’t want to marry. Hoster had thought it was a real blow when he refused. Even if he was his brother, Brynden had to listen to him. And anyway, he does not want to think about Brynden now. He places a light knock on the children’s door and opens the door: Catelyn is here, and the resemblance with her mother strikes Hoster in the guts. Lysa walks to them when they get in. Edmure, him, is in his crib. He still is too young to realize whatsoever. The boy does not even speak yet.   
Hoster kneels in front of his daughters:  
“Your mother wants to see you.”  
He cannot tell them she is dying. He knows he should, but he cannot. Catelyn looks at him, slides her hand in his and they walk out. Lysa takes Edmure in her arms, clumsily, and Brynden helps her and picks up the boy. The walk to Minisa’s room seems to last both a hundred years and a few seconds. Hoster swallows hard when his hand lean on the handle of the door.   
She is breastfeeding the baby. She has found the strength to do that at least once. Her beautiful face is staring intently at the baby girl, as if she wanted to remember her in the afterlife. The door creaks and she looks up, smiles when she sees the children:  
“Children…” she whispers weakly.   
The girls walk to her, Catelyn stern and grave, Lysa not looking concerned or aware of the situation.   
“Baby!” she squeals. “What is it?”  
“A girl”, she mumbles. Her eyes meet Catelyn’s and the eldest child feels a tear rolling down her cheek.   
She knows, Brynden thinks. He turns to Hoster, who stares blankly at his family. Brynden presses his shoulder with his hand.   
“Girls, listen to me. Be good to your father, alright? Always remember your words. Family, duty, honor. Remember there is nothing more precious in this world than family. I am gonna leave, now.”  
Catelyn starts crying:  
“No, no…”  
“I am sorry… I wish… I wish I could change things”, Minisa whimpers, crying too.   
The little baby turns her face to her sisters.   
“Here, Cat, take her.”  
The young girl clumsily picks her up. The baby is heavy for her.   
“Find her a name, always protect her, alright?”  
Cat nods, tears streaming down her face. Minisa kisses her children.  
“Leave now. Leave”, she almost panicks.   
Brynden hurriedly leads the children out. As soon as the door closes, Hoster holds her hand, kisses her and she dies, her eyes staring at him.   
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
Far east, southern to Riverrun, the same night, a young boy is playing with his older brother. Weakly enlightened by candles, their wooden swords smash against each other. One is tall, strongly built despise his young age, bright blue laughing eyes. The other looks concentrated, almost as strong as his older brother, but not smiling. With a swift move, he manages to slide the wooden sword on the other boy’s belly but this one escapes and points his own sword on the younger boy’s throat. He groans and lets his sword fall down. The winner laughs, a noisy and clear laugh.   
“Who’s there?!” a hoarse voice makes.   
“Quick!” the winner whispers and they run off to their bedroom. They close the door behind them and swiftly get in bed. Their hearts hammering against their chest, they try to be as still as possible when their door opens. Someone walks to their bed, and ends up leaving after a moment. The older brother laughs again and then glances at the other boy lay on his bed, his arms behind his head.   
“Why do you never laugh, Stannis?”  
“I don’t know Robert… I don’t know…”


	2. The visit

The young Tullys are waiting by their father’s side, curious. Today, a young boy has to come to Riverrun. Catelyn and Lysa are side by side, Edmure, now a toddler, tries to remain as quiet as possible. The last baby is held by a handmaid. Lord Hoster glances at his daughters, proudly. HE has talked with Tywin Lannister, and intends to betroth Lysa with his son, Jaime. He heard the young boy was already very charming and handsome and Tywin, without really giving reasons, wanted to take him away from his twin sister, Cersei.  
The young boy gets in Riverrun on a horse, following Lord Sumner. The young Lannister is a squire to him. Lysa widens her eyes when she sees him: he looks older than his age, and gives an arrogant look upon them all. Catelyn glares at him: the Lannisters are wealthier than any other family in the realm but she can’t stand how they despise everyone else. She secretly cheered when she learnt that their little brother was a freak. Then she blamed herself for having those thoughts. Both their mothers have died giving birth and it was rumored that the two fathers couldn’t stand the children who killed their mothers. They greet Jaime Lannister, getting off his horse, who nods at them. Lord Hoster shakes Lord Sumner’s hand. He looks at him and smiles:  
“I have a letter from Lord Lannister for you”, Lord Sumner says.  
“Let’s go inside. The children can play together”, Hoster says and leads him in the castle, walking side by side. Servants take care of the horses and soon they are alone, Cat, Lysa, Edmure and Jaime.  
“Where is your uncle Brynden?” Jaime asks, his eyes shining with excitation.  
“Probably fishing or swimming. Why?” Cat frowns.  
“I want to talk to him”, Jaime frowns back.  
“We could play either, no?” Lysa proposes.  
Edmure walks to Cat and slips his hand in hers, looking up at her smiling.  
“Pway!” he squeals and Jaime gives a dismayed look at him.  
“Alright”, he sighs and they decide to play hide and seek.  
On the evenings, Jaime and Lysa are seated side by side but Jaime doesn’t look interested at all in her. He keeps talking with Brynden, asking him to tell him stories about the war. Hoster’s brother likes it, but Lysa doesn’t. She is very upset by Jaime’s behavior and, when they all go to bed, she goes to the room she shares with Cat and the baby. The baby is asleep in her wooden crib. Cat looks at her smiling, brushing her soft cheeks with her fingers.  
“I hope she is not gonna wake up tonight”, Lysa sighs wearily as she dresses up for the night.  
Cat glares at her:  
“Be nice. She is just a baby. We were crying too when we were her age.”  
“Mother was here when we were her age”, Lysa spat.  
Cat sighs and looks down at the infant: Lysa and Hoster are the ones that could not forgive this baby to live. They would trade her for Minisa anytime. But they can’t. So they hated her, from the moment she came to this world. Hoster has never held her, not a second. Lysa is always moaning about how painful she is, how often she cries, how useless she is. She is not useless, Catelyn thinks, slipping a finger in the baby’s hand. She smiles when she feels the baby’s fingers wrapping around hers. She is a Tully, she keeps silently thinking. And she will be beautiful, just like Mother. She bends down to kiss her brow and joins her bed silently. She slides under the covers and turns to Lysa.  
“Do you like Jaime?” she asks her genuinely.  
Lysa shrugs:  
“He doesn’t even look at me. Maybe he should marry a sword. She would be happier than any other women.”  
Catelyn feels how bitter her sister is. She keeps looking at her: Catelyn has bright blue eyes, and thick and auburn hair. Soon after her mother’s death, Hoster could not look at her anymore. Brynden has explained her it was because she reminded him of her. Lysa has the same features, but she is more slender than her sister. Lysa is also shyer, quieter than her. Still, she feels bad for her that Jaime does not even talk to her.  
“Do you want to sleep in my bed?” she asks her.  
When they were younger, she was always joining her when she was upset, or scared by a storm outside. Lysa would snuggle up against her and could sleep peacefully. Their mother’s death has changed something in her. Cat just hopes she would find a man who could give her smile back on her lips. Lysa shakes her head:  
“No thank you. Good night Cat.”  
“Goodnight Lysa”, she whispers.  
She closes her eyes but cannot fall asleep. She hears whimpers coming out of the crib and she leaves her bed to take the baby in her arms. Silently, she takes her with her in her bed and she whispers comforting words. The baby turns her blue eyes to her and she falls back asleep. Cat holds her tight, scared to let her fall from the bed, and she whispers:  
“It will be alright, Aylis. It will be alright…”


	3. The fawn

Robert's sword swirls in the air, before violently crashing on the pillow. Stannis, lying on his bed, a book in his hands, gives an annoyed look towards him.

"Is it not dead yet?" he sarcastically says.

"I don't know how you can stay that calm", Robert answered, going on moving his sword as if he was fighting an invisible enemy. Stannis looks up to admire his skills. In fighting, Robert has always surpassed him. Basically, everything Stannis does, Robert does it better, or faster, or stronger. Except reading. Robert hates books. He thinks it's boring to stay sit for hours, reading some fairytale or history of Westeros, of the dragons, the Targaryens conquest and so on. Sometimes, Stannis thinks he should have been born a girl. Maybe he would have made his parents prouder then… A harrowing yell rings out in the whole castle. Stannis feels a shiver running up and down his spine and even Robert suddenly stops exercising.

"How long will it take?" he asks Stannis when the yell has lowered its intensity.

Stannis shrugs:

"I don't know. I think it's long to deliver a baby…"

Robert sighs, goes back to his sword and Stannis goes back to his book. A few hours later, while they're both close to fall asleep, their father, Steffon, gets in their room, looking exhausted but grinning brightly. With his deep and strong voice, he announces:

"Boys, you have a little brother."

Robert jumps with joy and Stannis can't help but whining: he would have loved a sister. Someone who would not be obsessed with battles, blood and fights. Someone he could have read to. He looks up when he feels Steffon's hand on his shoulder, pressing it gently.

"Stannis, next time it will may be a girl."

The boy looks up at his father and gives a faint smile.

"Can we see him?" Robert asks excitedly.

"Of course", Steffon says and walks out of the room, followed by his two sons. They walk through Storm's End castle, silently. Stannis is surprised to see how dark the night is. It was the beginning of the afternoon when their mother felt the first pains. The sun was shining brightly and Robert moaned about having to stay in his bedroom when he wanted to hunt with his gyrfalcon Thunderclap. Stannis was weirdly relieved: he would have wanted him to go hunting too and his own bird, a goshawk, was a terrible hunter. They pass in front of the aviary, and he looks at Proudwing, his bird. Next to her stands Robert's bird, stronger, taller. As he walks with his brother and father, he remembers this day when, having a stroll with his horse, he heard weak squawking. He went down from his horse and followed the sounds: here she was, probably fallen from the nest, her wing injured. He took her back, proud of having saved her. For weeks, he took care of her, keeping her in his room, feeding her. When she first flight, he almost cried with pride. It was as if she was his little child. Then, Robert decided to go hunt with them. Proudwing didn't fly very high, when Thunderclap flied so far sometimes it became invisible to their eyes. Robert was laughing, pointing at Stannis, red with anger and shame. "Proudwing", he couldn't stop laughing. "It's more Weakwing!" Laughing at his own joke, he was holding his belly. Stannis had rushed on him and had started punching him. They were alone, and even if there had been someone, he wouldn't have stopped himself. He hated Robert's arrogance, his disdain for everyone else. Robert was stronger than him and better at wrestling, but Stannis was so angry he hadn't given him a chance. It's only when his fists had been aching too much, and his anger had simmered down, that he had rolled off him and lied on the grass, panting hard. He had stared at the sky, and had seen Proudwing flying in circle above his head. Without a word, he had come back to the castle. Robert had come back later, his gyrfalcon having killed a rabbit. He had nastily smiled at Stannis when their father had congratulated him, and had the rabbit for dinner this night. None of them had talked about the fight, but Robert had stopped mocking Proudwing, at least in front of Stannis. Lost in thought, he bumps on Steffon, still in front of the door.

"Careful, Stannis", Steffon looked over his shoulder at him.

"Sorry father", he mumbles.

Steffon leans his hand on the handle of the wooden door and he opens it. Stannis and Robert gasp slightly in anticipation and walk with him. On the bed is their mother, the beautiful Cassana. She looks tired, but her lips are locked in a broad grin and her eyes stop on her children when they get closer. Her cheekbones are pale, but even now, she looks as noble as a queen. Stannis stares at her, her eyes slowly moving to the naked baby who is wriggling on her chest.

"Say hello to your little brother", her sweet voice says.

Robert and Stannis sit by her, Stannis moving his hand towards the baby, stroking his little hand clumsily.

"What's his name?" Robert asks.

"Renly", Steffon answers.

"Starts like my name" Robert triumphantly says, staring at Stannis.

Steffon notices the look and helds back a sigh:

"And Stannis's name starts like mine", he says and Stannis gives him a grateful look.

Why can't his children get along together? They are as different as night and day, that is true. He knows it, he has always known it. But they are brothers, the same blood runs in their veins. He looks at them, as far from each other as they can and he suddenly wonders if they would be this way their whole life or if there will be a time, when they will get old, when they could share a drink together, talking about their parents's memories and their children's ones. He places his hands on both of their hair and they turn to him with the same movement. So different, and so alike somehow. Two young stags testing their force by fighting each other.

"Come on", he says. "Let your mother rest."

Stannis places a kiss on Cassana's cheek and one on the baby's head. Robert does the same and they walk to the door.

"I love you", they hear her say.

"We love you too Mother", Robert replies with a smile before closing the door behind them.


	4. Sister Love

Catelyn shuts her eyes tight, her fists sticking against her hips, her body shaking slightly. Her shivers intensify when the boy's lips touch hers. She doesn't like it, but it's their game of the moment so she doesn't want to be the killjoy. Her cheeks turn peachy and, when she opens her eyes again, Petyr Baelish is looking triumphantly at her. She smiles slightly and looks down: it's not from excitement she blushes. It's from shame and repulsion. Lysa, by her side, jumps up and down, excited:

"My turn, my turn!" her little girl's voice shouts. Petyr gives a last look to Catelyn before joining her.

The boy had arrived in Riverrun to be forstered by Lord Tully. Lysa had fallen in love the minute he met them. But Petyr had not. Catelyn hadn't needed much time to realize he loved her. The way he looked at her, how he was insisting about playing that kiss game with them two, not only Lysa… He was three years younger than Cat, and, when she had been looking at him, she had only seen another little brother. It's true they had become very close, because they had loved having a stranger in Riverrun, but Catelyn was seeing him as a brother, not as a potential lover.

A servant calls them for dinner and they rush back to the castle, running. Catelyn takes her time, looking at her home, her landscape. She knows, as a lord's daughter, that she will have to leave Riverrun one day, to marry a man her father would have chosen. She doesn't mind that fact, unlike Lysa. Catelyn trusts her father to find her a man worthy of her. Tho, as she grows older, she knows this day gets closer, and she kind of dread it. Her heart will be broken when she will have to leave her father, her siblings, and Riverrun. How she loves Riverrun… The thick sandstones walls rising from the water, its great waterwheel turned by the Tumblestone, everything is magnificent and noble. Rain starts pouring as they get by the castle and Catelyn, unexpectedly, slows down to feel the soft and warm rain on her face and hair. She looks behind her at the godswood and smiles softly. They are all raised in the Faith of the Seven, and she loves her gods. After her mother died, she had often been there, and had cried, hiding from her siblings, because she was now the Lady of Riverrun, her father said, and she had to be strong and brave. She would mourn her mother, yes, but not in front of the others. Lysa calls at her and she joins them.

When they get in the dining room, Hoster is already sit. He glances at them and they quickly sit down in turn, knowing they're late. They all start eating silently, but Catelyn notices her sister is not here. She looks up at her father:

"Where is Ailys?" she asks.

"Sleeping", Hoster retorts coldly.

The baby is two years old now, but Hoster still shows no affection for her. It hurts Cat a lot, but she never talks about it. She knows it would be not appropriated for her to talk about these things with her father. Women dying in childbirth are very common, and it's common for the fathers to hold their children responsible for their wives' deaths. Catelyn plays with her fork, not very hungry. A single look from her father makes her eat. Outside, a thunderstorm has broken out. In the middle of the thunders, the lightning and the rain pouring hard on the castle, they hear Aylis crying. Catelyn stands up but her father coldly says:

"Sit down and finish your plate, Cat."

A servant comes to him:

"Should I go, my Lord?"

He shakes his head and she walks back to her place. Catelyn tries to eat, but the cries make her feel sick. Is she because she's a girl? But, no. She looks at Lysa, who eats quietly. Edmure doesn't react either. Aylis cries louder and louder, calling at her father, a servant, one of her sisters, anyone. Catelyn imagines her, red, her tears rolling down her cheeks, despair in her eyes. The sound stops suddenly but, instead of cries, those are scarier sounds. Catelyn stands up and exclaims:

"She's choking!"

No one moves and she runs out, not listening to her father commanding her to come back. She runs in the stairs, climbing the steps quickly, and rushes in the room. A foul odour makes her walk back at first, but after a few seconds, she walks to the crib: Aylis has tried to stand up but she couldn't, swaddle up. Catelyn winces when she sees she has thrown up everywhere but she still takes her in her arms, rocking her gently. She feels, disgusted, Aylis's mouth wiping against her beautiful hair, but she doesn't say anything, she keeps comforting her and takes her to her own room. Walking by a servant, she explains the bed sheets need to be changed in Aylis's room. The baby stops crying when they get in the room and Cat takes a washcloth and water to wipe her burning face. Aylis looks at her with big eyes and falls asleep in her bed when Cat huddles against her. Her heart still furiously hammers in her chest: she was so scared. She does not want to lose her sister. She closes her eyes and tries to find sleep.

The following morning, she decides to go see her father. It has been raining all night long, and Lysa wants them to play outside in the mud, but she wants to see him first. She knocks on the door of the room where he works, and his voice says:

"Come in."

She opens, blinded an instant by the sun shining through the window. Hoster has opened it, and a fresh wind makes Cat shiver a bit. He puts his quill on the wooden desk and turns to his oldest child:

"Hello cat", he softly says.

She walks to him and lays a kiss on her cheek.

"Father, can I ask you something?"

"Of course", he turns his chair to look at her.

"Why do you hate Aylis?" she directly asks.

Hoster sighs and shakes his head:

"I don't hate your sister…"

Cat stares at him: she would like to yell at him, but she can't, so she lets him speak. The Lord of Riverrun stands up and walks to the window, facing the river, his hands on his back, crossing them, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

"She reminds me so much of your mother, Cat. You do too, but Aylis is really the one who looks the most like her. That's why it's so hard for me to… even look at her face. I love her, she's my child, it's just… too hard sometimes."

As he says that, he remains still, his blue eyes scrutinizing his land. Catelyn walks closer to him and slips her hand in his. He looks down and smiles slightly at her:

"Her first word was 'Father', did you know that?" she asks him.

He nods slightly:

"A servant told it to me…"

"She will never disappoint you, Father. I'm sure of that."

Cat opens her arms and wraps them around Hoster's waist. He holds back his tears, and hugs her tight.

"Now, go play with your sisters and brother", he whispers against her hair.

"Alright Father", Cat nods and leaves.

Hoster stares at the door long after she left and whispers "If only you had not died, Minisa…"

Outside the castle, Catelyn runs to find her siblings and Petyr. She follows the laughs she's hearing and sees Edmure chased by a laughing Aylis, clumsily running after him. Lysa is on the ground, her dress already ruined by mud and she looks up at Cat, waves at her so she joins her. Cat happily joins, and they create a mud cake. Petyr is either with Edmure or them and, when the cake is done, he insists on eating it. Giggling all along, the sisters staring stunned at him, he eats the whole "cake". When he stands up, triumphant, his face turns white and he rushes back in the castle. The Tullys burst out laughing and keep playing until they're all too tired and too dirty to go on. When they get back in, a servant tells them Petyr has thrown up and feels really bad. Catelyn changes her clothes into cleaner ones and she goes see him. She feels a bit ashamed of what happened. Petyr is in a bed, his pale very face, his green-grayish eyes closed. He doesn't look like he is in pain, he's probably just sleeping. She sits by his side and slips her hand in his:

"I'm sorry Petyr", she whispers.

"Cat…." The boy mumbles, in a way that makes the young girl shiver violently.


	5. Sinking

Storm's End, 278 AC

Stannis and Robert are standing by the windows, staring at the unleashed sea. Maester Cressen is behind them and presses their shoulders with his hands, before closing his eyes, horrified. The boys don't close their eyes. Stannis gasps with fear when he sees the waves covering entirely the Windproud.

Their parents had left weeks ago to Volantis to help Aerys Targaryen to find a bride for his son Rhaegar. Targaryens and Baratheons were pretty close and Steffon had accepted gladly. They had thought about taking Renly, but Cassana suddenly changed her mind. The baby would stay with his brothers. They sent a letter when they were on their way back, saying they hadn't found a maid, but they did find a very funny fool, who was coming back with them.

Robert closes his eyes a second when he hears the terrorized yells ringing out in the night. The storm is terrible but the Windproud holds. For now. The boat, despite the howling wind, the giant waves that almost crush it, gets closer and closer from the castle. Robert smiles with relief and turns to his brother but Stannis stays grave and pale.

"Come on boys, let's leave" Cressen whispers but Stannis doesn't move.

"I want to watch", the boy whispers.

His eyes follow every movements of the ship, thunder makes him shiver and thunderbolt lightens up a strange glimpse in his eyes. His fists are tightly clenched, his arms stuck to his ribs, but he cannot stop his shoulders from shaking, the knot in his stomach from intensifying. Suddenly, he runs away. Cressen does not even have time to stop him and Robert yells at him. But Stannis does not care. He runs as fast as he can, climbing down the stairs, jumping the last steps, running out of the castle. Proudwing cries when he runs in front of her, but he doesn't stop either. He cannot hear Cressen when he walks out: the wind is too noisy, the sea too violent. The waves crash on the cliff, leaving them whiter with foam. Stannis's hair is soon dripped with rain but he keeps running, only stops when he reaches the wet sand of the beach. He remains speechless, his heart hammering against his chest with fear and anguish, as he looks at the ship suddenly being violently pushed against the cliff by a wave huger than the others. The noise of the wood cracking is deafening. The yells of the men are worse. But Stannis doesn't move. He calls at his parents, at his father, his mother. They are good swimmers, every Baratheon is, and he knows they can join the beach. He sees people jumping off the ship before it sinks, but the ship falls on them. And, suddenly, all the yells stop. Stannis's hope does not fade away tho. He stays still on the beach, his eyes staring at the exact place where the ship has sunk.

Robert stays with maester Cressen: they cannot send men to look for survivors, the storm is still violent and if a big ship as the Windproud can be sank, any small boat would be. Cressen gives a sorry look to the sea: there is no hope they would find survivors, they know it very well. What matters now is to find Stannis, and to bring him back here. He leaves Robert with a servant and looks for Stannis outside. The maester hears yells and cries coming from the beach. He hastily walks there, and sees the young boy, on his knees, staring at the sea, still hoping for his parents to appear. Cressen slows down, not knowing how the boy will react and he carefully wraps his arms around his shoulders to make him stand up again. He is pretty surprised when he sees the boy does not resist at all. On the contrary, he doesn't react, and follows obediently the maester. He puts him in bed himself, after servants had undressed him and given him clean and dry clothes. Cressen stays with him, but Stannis turns his back at him and refuses to say anything. With a sigh, Cressen sits on an armchair and falls asleep.

When he wakes up the following morning, Stannis's bed is empty. He hastily places a hand on the sheets: they're already cold. Immediately, he goes back to the beach. The storm has stopped before dawn and a bright sun is shining. The place where the ship sunk is quiet and still. No one could guess what happened here. Is it how things go? You die and, the day after, it looks like you never even existed. Mother, Father. Stannis hears those names in his head, he can see their faces, the heartily laugh of his father, so alike his brother's one. His mother's sweet smile and how her hair was tickling him when she wished him a goodnight. And Renly… Renly who was barely walking, already an orphan. He would not even remember them. He will, Stannis firmly asserts silently. I'll never forget about them and I'll never let him forget where he comes from. He wipes his tears away rageously. If Robert was seeing him now, he would mock him for sure.

"Stannis?"

He swiftly turns to the voice and faces Maester Cressen. The looks on his face, not pitiful, but hurt, deeply hurt, just makes him feel like he is going to cry even more.

"Come, Stannis… There's nothing you can do for them…" Cressen takes a step forward.

"But, maybe… maybe they could swim… Father is strong… Mother is too… Maybe they could have reached a rock and… and lie there waiting for help… Maybe they could have survived… Maybe…"

But Stannis knows, deep inside, none of them has survived. His voice breaks and he turns around from Crassen. But the maester can see his shoulders jolting and the snifflings. Stannis had always hidden his feelings. Cressen had never known why. But he weirdly feels relieved to see him crying, as if he had lost hope he could express something one day. He gets closer again, unsure, but Stannis doesn't react, and he wraps his cloak around the young boy's shoulders. Stannis suddenly turns around and hugs him tight, loud and noisy sobs escaping his lips. Cressen hugs him back, feeling his own tears filling his eyes. He eyes one last time the place where the ship has sunk, and they walk back to the castle.

Two days after, as they have a walk by the beach after saying farewell to Robert, riding back to the Eyrie, they find a body on it: Cressen immediately remembers Steffon's letter and he brings the fool back to the castle. Harbert Baratheon, now Storm's End's castellan as the children are too young, tells him to kill the boy, because he would not survive. Cressen refuses and takes good care of the boy. Stannis sometimes goes see him. He cannot believe this fool has survived but not his parents. The castle is weirdly silent since they died: no more laughs, no more shouts. Stannis studies a lot to stop thinking about this night, and Maester Cressen congratulates him for his good job. He trains with swords, but he loves better studying the great battles of Westeros, trying to figure out why the winner had lost, and what the loser could have done to win. He spends hours reading books, by Maester Cressen and, when weather is good, he goes to the beach and has swims. Cressen hates it: he couldn't afford losing him in turn. So he stays by the beach, watching him swimming further every day. He doesn't know why he does that, if it's because he still thinks his parents could be alive or if it's because he wants to test his own limits. Then, when Stannis is too tired, he walks out of the water and Cressen wraps a towel around his body. They walk back to the castle, together, and Harbert takes him with him when he receives the common people and the Lords of the Stormlands. Stannis is not the Lord of Storm's End, Robert is, but Robert is far away in the north and both Harbert and Cressen feel there is something about Stannis which make him a better ruler than Robert. Stannis goes on studying until sun sets and he shares his dinner with Cressen and Harbert. This one takes him to the Sept so he talks about his parents's death but it seems obvious Stannis has lost faith in them. Tonight, as Cressen walks with him in his bedroom and that he lies in the sheets, he turns to him:

"Do you believe in the Gods, Maester Cressen?" the little boy asks.

"I do", he replies, sitting on the bed by the boy.

A boy, he thinks. Not really a boy anymore. The long hours spent swimming had developed his muscles and he's slowly turning into a teenager. He'll probably never be as strong and tall as Robert, but he is still close to him. Tho, deep inside, he has remained the shy little boy, pretty thoughtful and lonely. His voice is changing too, getting more affirmed and grave.

"Is it bad to not believe in them?" Stannis asks again.

Cressen shakes his head:

"The most important is to believe in you, Stannis. What happened to your parents was terrible and you could blame the Gods for that. Some people would say it's the destiny, some would say they were unlucky. I have loved your father and your mother and I have served them the best I could. And I will serve you, and I hope I'll live long enough to see you having children of your own."

Stannis stares at him:

"Do you think I'll find a woman one day?"

Cressen frowns:

"Why wouldn't you?"

The child shrugs and has this half-sad, half-upset pout of his.

"Robert is strong and tall and handsome", he mumbles. "And all the servants say Renly is cute…"

"Don't compare you to your brothers. Each one of you has his own qualities and flaws. Robert may be handsome but he is lazy and too flirty with girls. Renly is just a baby, I don't know how he will be once a grown up but he cannot be perfect. Nobody is", Cressen tries to reassure him.

The deep blue eyes turn to him:

"I am not sure a woman will love my qualities."

"Every woman loves a clever and brave man. And that's what you'll turn into, Stannis. I'm sure of that."

Stannis nods silently and yawns. Cressen stands up:

"It is late. Goodnight, my Lord."

A slight smile enlightens the boy's face:

"Goodnight, Maester Cressen."

He curls up and closes his eyes, and Cressen stays for a long moment, just watching him, before going to see Renly, who is having a bad cough lately, and checks everything is okay with him. If he had to compare them as babies, he would say Renly and Stannis are as different as night and day. Renly, from the moment he was born, has always been cheerful and happy, laughing often. Stannis has been curious, thoughtful. He was not a smiling baby, at least a lot less than his brothers. But he was the happiest when his parents were there. He was happier than Robert when Cassana told them she was pregnant again. Cressen had known the middle child's place was not an easy one, but he thought it would perfectly fit Stannis. Robert would have been always jealous if he had been in his place. And still, Stannis had always felt as the less loved of the three children. Cassana could be cuddly and sweet with them, Stannis was looking for his father's love, and Robert was stealing this love with being the one Steffon was the proudest of. Cressen thinks about all that as he takes Renly in his arms and checks on him. As usual, the boy gives him a charming smile and Cressen gently strokes his black hair before lying him down in bed.


	6. Thinking about future

Riverrun, 278 AC

Hoster Tully has just come back from a long journey and he's watching his children chasing each other laughing. His lips curl in a sweet smile, as his eyes stare at his eldest, Cat. He has news to tell her, but he wants to let her enjoy this moment with her siblings. His smile quavers a bit when he sees her embracing Aylis tight, picking her up and laying loud kisses on her cheeks, making her roaring with laughter. As he keeps looking at them, the differences between them, and the complicity they share, that they do not share with their other siblings strike him. Aylis has been, from the moment she was born, like a living doll to Catelyn. And as Catelyn has her mother's high cheekbones, Aylis is still the one who looks like her the most. Before she was born, Catelyn and Lysa were inseparable, and, should you see them for the first time, you could have thought they were twins. And tho, Cat gets along the best now with the little girl, the only one having the dark hair of her mother, and not the Tully's auburn color. Her eyes are also different: blue like the Tullys, but another shade, more grayish. When the sun was shining brightly, they looked green; when it was raining, they had the colour of the clouds. Hoster's eyes don't leave the little toddler. They watch Cat grabbing her pony and taking Aylis with her. They watch them starting to trot, and Aylis's laugh, this beautiful child's laugh, ringing out in the castle, making the handmaids smile with tenderness. They watch Catelyn galloping suddenly, Aylis stopping laughing. His heart skips a beat when he hears the loud noise and sees his daughter on the ground, still.

He storms out of the room, his heart beating furiously in his chest, and walks down the stairs running. He rushes on the spot where Aylis fell: Catelyn is holding her, crying loud. Hoster slows down, scared of what he's gonna see. As he gets closer, the handmaids move away and he lets out a sigh of relief: Aylis is crying as loud as Cat, but she seems alright, even though her brow is bleeding slightly. She looks up at him and sobs "Father!" before running to him, crashing her little body against his leg. She raises her little face to him: big tears run down her face, her china skin is dirtied by mud and blood, her nose and ears red with the fall and she wraps her little arms tight around his legs. "I am sorry, Father, I am so sorry", he can hear Catelyn sobbing loudly, totally panicked and shocked. He looks up at her, opens his arm and she rushes to them, burying her face in his chest. Clumsily, he picks Aylis up and she gasps, surprised. He has never held her, except when she was born. Hoster feels emotion overwhelming him but he doesn't show it. Aylis's tiny arms wrap around his neck and she buries her face in, her sobs slowly calming down. Hoster had always been overflowing with hugs and kisses towards his children. Except with the two last ones: Edmure was a boy and Aylis had killed her mother. He closes his eyes at this thought and bites his tongue hard. He should stop thinking like that. He doesn't want to think like that, to see an innocent child as a murderer. She is not a kinslayer: she is his daughter, she is Aylis Tully. Slowly, he turns around to go back in the castle, followed by Catelyn, still huddled against him.

In the castle, they have bread and jam to regain their composure and Hoster sits with them, grabs a piece of bread and eats with them.

"Cat, I need to talk to you", he solemnly says.

The little girl's lips tremble with anxiety:

"I swear, Father, it was not my fault! I was holding her and…"

He interrupts her:

"It's not about the accident."

"Oh… What is it then?"

She turns curious eyes to him and he smiles slightly, runs a hand in her thick auburn hair. My little girl…

"You have bled for the first time a few weeks ago…" he says, pretty embarrassed.

She blushes deep red and nods quickly. Those are the moments when he regrets Minisa the most: she should be the one talking about that. Or an aunt, or an older sister. But Hoster has no sisters, and Cat is the firstborn.

"So is the time when we must think about your future", he goes on.

Catelyn's eyes leave his to lock into Aylis's one. It's time, she thinks. Time to talk about leaving the castle. She suddenly feels emotion and tears filling her eyes and she has to bite the inside of her cheek very hard to not cry.

"I have talked with Lord Rickard Stark", Hoster starts saying, watching at his daughter's reaction.

Cat's cheek reddens and she feels her heart beating faster: Stark… The wardens of the North, the most powerful Northern house…

"He is thinking about marrying his firstborn Brandon to you. And his daughter Lyanna, to Robert Baratheon. What do you think?"

She knows the question is genuinely nice. Cat knows the Lords's ways. The marriage is already settled if her father talks to her about it. But she does not care: it's a great opportunity for her and for the Tullys. She looks up at him:

"Thank you for this splendid match, Father. I am sure this man will make me very happy."

Hoster smiles, sadly. When he had discussed the wedding with Lord Rickard, it was not cheerfully. Brandon had started a relationship with Barbrey Ryswell. Lord Stark is an ambitious man, and has refused to betroth his firstborn to one of his bannermen's daughter. He had wanted the daughter of a southern Lord, and Catelyn was a perfect match. Would they love each other? Hoster hopes so. But a first love is hard to forget. Of course he remains silent in front of Cat but she asks, worried:

"Is everything alright, Father?"

"Yes… I am just sad to know you will soon leave me", he argues.

She nods and kisses his cheek:

"The wedding will not occur right away. I am not gone yet", she whispers, leaning her head on his arm, watching Aylis eating greedily.


	7. At the Eyrie

278 AC, The Eyrie

Robert and Ned wake up early this morning. Ned is all smiles, since he has known about his sister coming to visit him. Robert is overjoyed too: he has seen Lyanna before, once or twice, but she was a little girl back then. Now, she is 12, almost a woman in Westeros. They hurriedly swallow their breakfast and go get ready to welcome her. Jon Arryn stands between them, giving them loving looks. Himself has never have kids, and, spending so much time with his two fostered children, he had grown very fond of them. Lord Arryn sees them as his own sons. He turns his head to the huge gate, ready to welcome the young Stark. She gets in, with her father, Rickard, riding a beautiful white mare. Jon is pretty surprised to see her dressed up like a boy, but he doesn't say anything and watches Ned run to her, smiling softly. Robert has not moved, his mouth wide opened, and Rickard gets off of his horse, laughing at his heart's content with Robert's face. He walks to Jon and shakes his hand:

"Lord Arryn" he greets him.

"Lord Stark", Jon lays a hand on Robert's shoulder:

"This is Robert Baratheon."

Lord Stark stares at him, in a pretty weird way, in Robert's opinion. The teenager holds his gaze and shakes as firmly as he can the hand of his best friend's father. Rickard wraps his arm around Jon and he leads him inside:

"So", Jon says. "I heard you betrothed Brandon to the young Tully…"

That's everything Robert can hear before they disappear inside. Ned and Lyanna are laughing and hugging, squealing with the happiness of being united again. Robert walks to them and clears his throat.

"Oh, Lyanna, this is Robert. He's my best friend!" Ned says proudly.

"Robert Baratheon", she nods and curtseys.

Robert remains speechless, unable to realize this beautiful girl standing in front of him, was the same he saw the other times. Ned chuckles and Lyanna grins huge. Robert glares at Ned and bows slightly:

"Lyanna Stark", he greets in turn.

"Can I see Lord Arryn's stables?" she asks excitedly.

"Of course, follow me", Ned says.

The three young people walk to the stables and Lyanna cuddles every horse there. Ned watches her, a tender smile roving on his lips. Robert watches her too, but not for the same reason. Despite being still young, he has already grown affection for the fair sex. And most girls had given this affection back. He had lost his virginity a while ago, as they were resting to eat in a tavern. The daughter of the innkeeper was beautiful, laughing eyes, and a huge smile. He had led her outside and had shagged her in the woods by the tavern. He was 12, back then. Once he had tasted to the pleasure of sex, he had never stopped. Every handmaid in the Eyrie could tell about that. Lyanna is young, and unattainable. For now, he thinks as he stares at her. Each girl he has wanted, he had them. This one will not be different. But she is the daughter of a Lord, not of an innkeeper. His eyes drift off from Lyanna to Ned. He loves his sister. It shows as the look in his eyes. And suddenly, as an evidence, Robert knows the solution: marrying Ned's sister. Ned and he would be like real brothers, after that. He would rule Storm's End with her, they would ride on the cliffs, and she would give her strong boys, as strong as wolves during the long winter. Ned would have a wife too, and their children would be fostered together, as they are. Robert smiles softly at this thought: this life promises to be perfect. But he needs to talk to their father first. Lyanna is too young anyways; they will have to wait for a few years before actually getting married. When she is tired of staying with the horses, the teens walk back to the castle with her and show her around. She admits it is beautiful, but she still misses the North, the real North, she precises. Robert wonders if she would be happy in Storm's End, which is far southward than the Eyrie. He would know how to make her happy, he is sure of that. Around noon, they join Rickard and Jon for lunch. Robert talks a lot with Rickard, hoping to make him appreciate him, and thus be favorable to the marriage. Ned chats with Lyanna, asking for news from everyone back at Winterfell, his brothers Brandon and Benjen, the baby of the family, their mother, Lyarra and Walder, the stable boy. Being only one year apart, Lyanna and Benjen are pretty close, as Brandon and Ned are. They have grown up together, Benjen following his sister in everything she was doing, following her examples. It was by watching her he had learnt how to walk, how to run. She has been the first one to take him with her on a horse. Jon, at the head of the table, looks upon every one of them, a smile curling his lips up. He knows, one day, the boys will leave to get married, have their own lives. He will be alone in this castle, and how much he is gonna grieve their departure. They could always meet each other, it is true, but it would still be hard.

Once they are done eating, the grownups stay together for a talk, as the youngs decide to have a horse ride. Jon pours some wine in a cup for Rickard and he takes it, sips it and exhales loudly:

"What is it?" Jon asks, sitting by him.

"Ah, you know… Brandon…" Rickard sighs. "I was scared he refused the betrothal. He is really infatuated with this Barbrey girl. You know, sometimes I envy you. You don't have children. You don't know the trouble they can be."

Jon raises an eyebrow:

"Your children are good people, my Lord."

Lord Stark stands up and paces around the room:

"Brandon and Lyanna are wild. I fear for them. They act before thinking, and are driven by their feelings. Benjen is a good lad, but quiet. Ned, though… Ned is a true good boy. But that's mostly thanks to you", he nods at Jon, who nods back, pretty surprised. "He has spent more time here than in Winterfell. And what about Robert? What do you have to say about him?"

Jon can't hold his smile back:

"Robert and your son are as close as brothers, and as different as night and day. Ned is shy and serious, Robert is outgoing and always laughing. In a way, Robert makes me think of your eldest son."

"I saw the way he was looking at Lyanna", Rickard starts, waiting for Jon to go on.

"Yes… I saw it too…" Jon cautiously says.

He doesn't know what Rickard thinks of Robert and he's not sure the comparison with Brandon will be in favor of the young man's case. He hastily adds:

"I've never seen him looking at a girl this way."

"Lyanna fascinates a good many men", Rickard smiles.

"She is quite extraordinary", Jon admits, even if he barely knows the only daughter of the Starks.

"She is… Maybe too much", he mysteriously adds.

Jon quickly changes the subject and they talk about what is going on in King's Landing.

The Stark stay here for a fortnight and, when they leave, Ned is not the only one who is sad. Robert and he sit on a rock, staring at the mountains surrounding them. Robert comfortingly rubs his shoulder:

"You're okay, Ned?"

The Stark boy nods silently and Robert leans back, his strong hands gripping the rock:

"You'll soon visit them in Winterfell, don't worry. I will have a letter for you, which you'll give to your father."

Ned looks up at him and frowns slightly:

"What are you talking about?"

Robert flashes him a huge smile:

"I am gonna ask your father to betroth me to your sister."

He expects him to yell with joy. Instead, Ned looks at him with a weird look, almost sad.

"Are you sure?" he asks slowly.

Robert frowns:

"I thought you would be happy. We would be part of the same family."

Ned nods slightly:

"Yes but… Lyanna is way more than a pretty girl, Robert. I know how you are with girls. Just… don't treat her like that. She would not stand it."

Robert keeps staring at him, and his blue eyes turn dark with anger:

"I am not talking about a simple girl here, Ned! I'm talking about the woman I wanna marry, I wanna have children with! I will love her! She'll be the only one I'll ever love, I assure you. I swear it on the friendship that binds us."

He holds his hand at Ned, defying him with his eyes. Ned holds back a sigh, and shakes his hand firmly.


	8. The betrothal

Riverrun, 278 AC

Today is a feast day in Riverrun : people are celebrating the betrothal of Catelyn Tully to Brandon Stark, heir of Winterfell and future Warden of the North. Everyone is cheering in the castle. Except for one person: Petyr. He has seen the Lord of Riverrun selling his daughter like a mare when he would have loved her. Who was this Brandon Stark to her? No one. While she knew Petyr, and she loved him, he was sure she did. When the feast starts, he stays sit at the table, barely eating. He stares at Catelyn, who looks more beautiful than ever. She has put on a splendid dress, and is laughing with the guests. He loves looking at her, he loves every feature of her face, of her body. Why does he have to marry this Stark lad? They could run away, together, tonight, and no one would ever care about them. He watches her as she chats with her sister. Lysa stares at him and smiles when their eyes meet. He holds back a loud sigh and fakely smiles. Lysa is pretty, it's true, but she's not Cat. And it's Cat he loves, not her.

As the feast gets to its end, people start to dance. Catelyn dances with her father first, and then with her uncle, Brynden. Petyr stares at them, he stares at Cat, unable to look at anyone else but her. He follows the least of her movements. Everything dances in her: her arms, her legs, her back, her breasts… He smiles when she smiles; he feels his cheeks reddening like her when she finishes dancing. She is the one he sees when he looks at the sky, she would eclipse the sun. When their eyes meet, he has the feeling of an electric shot throughout his spine. He gulps his wine and walks to her, makes her dance. Look at me, Cat. Love me, Cat. The least fiber of his being yells this to her. But she doesn't hear it. She smiles and laughs and talks with him, but she doesn't see it. She is gonna marry the son of a greater Lord than his father, well educated, handsome, strong. He will not love her, he thinks. No one could love her as I do. He keeps dancing with her, for five other dances. He feels so proud of being with her in this moment. She looks like a Queen, and she deserves a King. He's not a King, tho. He's the son of a low Lord. He could never hope to marry the heiress of House Tully. At best, he could marry the daughter of one of their bannermen. At best. But Petyr doesn't want that. He wants Cat. She obsesses him, night and day. He would do anything to have her. If he could, he would take a horse, ride to Winterfell and kill Brandon Stark. What will her life look like, married to some uncouth Stark? Hate and jealousy burn his veins as much as the heat of the room and his love for her.

When they stop dancing, he holds her back by her arm and kisses her. His lips has barely touched hers that she walks back laughing. Laughing. In front of everybody, she mocks him, she mocks his love. Humiliated and furious, he gets back to his chair, and drinks more wine. As the night passes, he doesn't stop drinking, and he soon almost collapses. He feels arms wrapping around him and someone picking him up as if he was a little boy. He doesn't even protest, he's too tired and drunk for that. He opens his eyes and sees the familiar face of Blackfish. The man looks down at him and smiles slightly, before getting in his chamber. He lays the boy on the bed, and gets to the chimney to light a fire. The sudden flames enlighten his face and his hair, already starting to turn grey. Petyr turns on a side and immediately falls asleep, his temples beating hard in his skull, as if they were repeating Cat's name.

He's woken up late when someone moves the sheets away. He feels hair tickling him and he half opens his eyes. It's her, he thinks. It's Cat. He smiles huge and pulls her close to him. She reciprocates tenderly, her soft hands stroking his hair and his back. His whole body shivers and his sex answers her strokes. He hears clothing's noise and suddenly, she is naked next to him. Eagerly, he strokes her, her thighs, her belly, her breasts. She whimpers with pleasure and he hardly believes his luck here. Maybe he is dreaming. He kisses her to be sure and she opens her lips, she offers herself to him. The need of being in her overwhelms him and, feverishly, he takes down his pants and slips his shirt off his head. She's a virgin, he remembers, but he can hardly restrain himself. His cock slides in her as if it was its natural place and the warmth of her entrance takes his breath away. He breathes hard, pleasure rushing in his veins as fast as wine rushed in his stomach, a few hours ago. Why did she change her mind? He doesn't understand. And, somehow, he pays that no mind. He just closes his eyes, and let nature do its work.

When he comes in her with a hoarse moan, he rolls off her and immediately pulls her close for a tight and tender embrace. His lips curl in a sweet smile, his eyes close with tiredness and he whispers her name, the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. "Cat…"

Snuggled up close to his chest, his strong arms wrapped around her, Lysa Tully holds back a sob and lets tears stream down on her face.


	9. Wild blood

Winterfell, 279 AC  
Eddard Stark has just turned 16 since a few weeks, and is now free to travel between the Eyrie and Winterfell, his home. He leaves The Eyrie on this morning, a letter by his heart. Robert has given it to him and he knows what is written. He has nodded to him, and then left on his horse. Ned is happy to see his father again, and his siblings. He loves Jon Arryn, of course, but still, his blood is his blood. He has taken with him a few men, just in case they could be attacked by bandits. The travel is safe, tho, and they arrive in Winterfell within a few days.   
Eddard is welcomed by his sister Lyanna, first, then Brandon and Benjen. Rickard, their father, lets them welcome him before embracing him in turn, in a tight hug.   
“Hello, my son”, he says with a smile.  
“Father”, Ned nods, smiling too. “We need to talk…”  
Rickard wraps an arm around his shoulders and leads him in the castle.   
Eddard is chewing on a piece of meat and some cheese, staring at his father. A huge grin has enlightened his face when he has read the letter. He rolls up the parchment and turns to his son:  
“Brandon with Lady Tully, Lyanna with Lord Baratheon… What about you, Ned? Who would you marry?” he asks before laughing heartily.   
Ned smiles slightly, and looks down.  
“What is it, Ned?”   
He hears the sound of the chair’s legs scraping the slabs of the room and looks up at his father.  
“You do not look enthusiast. You say Robert is very close to you, that you love him very much.”  
Ned nods:  
“I do, Father.”  
“Then why do you look so stern?” Rickard asks, leaning his hand on his son’s shoulder. Eddard looks up at him, and his grey eyes lock his father’s.  
“I love Robert with all my heart, and I would love him to marry Lyanna. He would become my brother, and it will be a great alliance… Starks and Baratheons…”  
He does not finish his sentence, but Rickard feels there is something else.  
“But?” he encourages him.   
As much as Brandon and Lyanna are loud and outgoing, Benjen and Ned are pretty shy and quiet. Rickard has always felt the wild blood running in his eldest son and only daughter’s veins will cause their downfall.   
“I do not know if Robert will be a good husband”, Ned admits. “Especially to someone like Lyanna.”  
“Ned”, Rickard sighs and sits by him.  
“Your sister needs to be tamed now. She is old enough to realize what her place is. She is a Lady; she will always be, even tho she does not want to be one. That is who she was, that is who she was born to be. Girls… Girls always dream about princes, romantic love… Pah” he huffs with disdain. “Love marriage are not always the greatest ones, remember that, Ned. Love takes time to be built, a lot of time. It is not love before several years, believe me. But which is the strongest, Ned? A slowly built house, with maybe raw materials, or a pretty house built hastily? Which one will resist the winds of winter, the snow storms?”  
“The slowly built one”, Ned answers.   
“Exactly. When the one built hastily will collapse with the slightest wind. Well, love is exactly the same thing. We all want to live passion, to know a unique love in our lives. Only a few of us know the most tempting things are also the most dangerous ones.”  
Eddard watches his father take a quill and ink: he writes a few words, rolls the parchment up, places an insegel on it and holds the letter to Ned, who takes it silently.  
“You will tell your friend we are very pleased by this proposal, and that we accept it.And do not worry about Lyanna. She likes him. She told me so when we came back from the Eyrie, last time we visited you. Now”, he places his strong hand on his son’s hair, and ruffles it quite brutally, “get rid of this stern look and join your siblings. I am sure you all have a lot to tell each other.”  
Ned smiles slightly and stands up, walks to the door, leans on the handle, and turns to his father:  
“Shall I talk to Lyanna about this?”  
Rickard shakes his head briefly:  
“I will.”  
Ned smiles again and closes the door behind him. As soon as he is sure his father doesn’t see him anymore, he loses his smile.


	10. The Alphas

Winterfell, 280 AC

Lyanna storms out of the stables, Eddard right on her tracks. She is furious, and he cannot deny she is right to be.   
“Lyanna, please…” he tries to say, but she cuts him off.   
She grabs a saddle outside, and steps in the box of her horse, wide open, and places the saddle carefully on his back. She strokes his neck gently, and turns to Ned. Immediately, her eyes turn dark again and her mouth contracts with rage.   
“He has a daughter! From another woman!! While we are betrothed! Don’t tell me he loves me, Ned!”  
The young buck does not know what to say: Lyanna is right, in his opinion. He had warned Robert of not thinking she was like any other girls. And he could have not helped himself. He had a baby with a commoner, in the Eyrie. Ned could have not kept it to himself, especially when Robert was paying visits to the little baby. The mother had called her Mya. And, as she was a noble’s bastard, her last name was Stone. Ned felt terribly ill at ease when they were visiting them. Robert was not interested anymore in the mother, but he looked happy to have a child. He would hold her, turning to Ned and asking him if he thought she was looking like him. Ned would agree, very pale and sometimes so angry at the boy he sees as a brother. Robert has been reckless, totally reckless. He has not thought about Ned, or Lyanna. He has thought only about himself. As usual, Ned bitterly has thought. And now, he has to visit Winterfell, and tell his beloved sister the man she had been promised to has already been cheating on her. He has tried to ask Robert why, why he had to sleep with a commoner, when he just had to wait a few years before marrying Lyanna. Robert had shrugged, and said he couldn’t have restrained himself, that he had needs that should be fulfilled. “I love your sister”, he had said, “I really do. I was thinking about her when I was with Mya’s mother.” He had probably hoped it would soften Ned up, but it had just disgusted him even more. Since then, something was broken between the two young men. But, still, he should convince Lyanna. A betrothal cannot be broken that easily, especially since the King gave his consent to the marriage. He sees her getting on her horse. He frowns:  
“What are you doing?”  
Lyanna huffs:  
“If you wanna go with me, take a horse.”  
With that, she spurs her horse and it gallops out of the stable. Ned quickly follows her, but she is a better rider than him and he loses her in the woods. He comes back to the castle, then back in the woods again, calling out at her. Why does she have to be so savage? He wonders. He hears a snort, and knows it’s her horse. He follows the sound and finds the horse alone, his reins wrapped around a tree. Leaning on the tree is Lyanna, sat in the snow. Ned sighs and joins her:  
“You’re gonna fr…”  
He cannot finish his sentence. Lyanna is crying. And even she quickly wipes her eyes and nose off, she cannot deny it: she is crying. Ned remains dumbfounded: from as far as he can recall, he has never seen her cry. Never. She could fall from a horse, burn herself, cut herself, she would never cry. Never. He quickly kneels down in front of her, and strokes her hair gently:  
“Lyanna…” he sighs. “I am so sorry.”  
“I do not want him as a husband”, she sniffles loudly. “I deserve better than him, Ned. I deserve better than cheating. I want to be the only woman in my husband’s heart, do you understand?”  
“I do, sweet sister, I really do.”  
He sits by her and wraps an arm around her. He feels the frozen snow under his butt, and he shivers violently, holding her tighter.   
“How can you be friend with such a man, Ned?” he hears her asking.   
He lets out a sigh and leans his head against the tree, smelling the mixed scent of the snow and the wood.   
“He has qualities, Lyanna. He is brave, good at telling jokes, always smiling.”  
He feels her head nodding against his chest:  
“Those are the qualities of a friend, not of a husband. I could never be happy with him, I know it. He is handsome, yes, for sure. That does not do everything.”   
“I know”, Ned whispers.   
He feels so heartbroken with her words, not because she speaks them, but because it is the truth. And yet, she does not have a choice. She has to marry him. It is her duty, as the daughter of a Lord, and because the King, when he gives his consent, turns the proposal into an order. Maybe, when they will be married, and that she will be Robert’s, he will stop sleeping around. Ned hopes so, with all his heart: he knows Lyanna will not stand it, and even he will have difficulties being nice to a man who cheats on his sister. Lyanna and he remain this way for almost an hour before the cold make them stand up and get on their horse again. They go on with their ride, not willing to go back to the castle straightaway, and go back to Winterfell only when they know their family is waiting for them to share a meal. 

A/N: oh, the irony. Next chapter: Harrenhal. So excited for this one! Please, do not hesitate leaving reviews!


	11. Harrenhal

Harrenhal, 281 AC  
Today is the first day of the Tourney of Harrenhal. The whole kingdom had gathered here, or most, to celebrate Lord Walter Whent’s daughter’s nameday. The tourney should last for five days, and Aylis Tully, as she wakes up and gets ready to leave for Harrenhal, is very excited. It is the first time she is going to meet so many different Lords and Ladies, and she cannot wait to be there. Riverrun is not far from Harrenhal at all, and she hopps up and down, waiting for her sisters. She rushes in their room, and sees Catelyn having her hair done by a handmaid.   
“Cat!” she exclaims. “Hurry up!!”  
The young Tully laughs heartily:  
“Sweetheart, the knights are not going to vanish, we still have time before joining Harrenhal.”  
The little girl pouts cutely and joins her:  
“Are we going to see Brandon again?” she asks.  
“Yes. His whole family will be here”, Catelyn beams.   
Aylis smiles back and asks, frowning:  
“Where is Lysa?”  
Catelyn shrugs, and looks at her reflection in the mirror. Aylis leaves and finds Lysa, sat on a bench, lost in thoughts. She sits by her and takes her hand:  
“Are you alright, Lysa?” she asks her.   
Lysa sighs and quickly slips her hand off her:  
“I’m fine”, she coldly says.  
Aylis gasps slightly with her brusqueness, but is not surprised. Lysa has changed, lately. She does not know why but everyone has noticed it, including their father. She has turned quiet and stern, when she was always laughing and nice. It is with Cat she is the nastiest now, and Cat cannot understand why. So she ends up avoiding her, and Lysa finds herself mostly all alone. Aylis, silently, stays by her side, until Hoster calls at them all and they join him. Aylis has chosen a beautiful red dress, made out of silk from Essos. It fits her flawlessly, draping past her ankles. The two straps are made of red laces, and reveal her fair skin. Her dark hair, similar to her mother’s, has been done in an elegant bun, giving free rein to the beauty of her face. She is only six, but most of Riverrun people praise her beauty, and insist she could be even more beautiful than Cat, when she’ll grow up. Aylis hears the words, but pays that no mind. As she walks in front of a mirror, she admires herself, still knowing that, as soon as the tourney is over, her hair will run freely on her back, and she will run in the mud with her siblings. She joins her father, and turns to him:  
“Can I take Smudge?” she asks him.  
Smudge is the pony her father has bought for her, for her last nameday. She has named him Smudge because he has a weird coat, both black and white. On the first days, the servants had found her sleeping with him in his stable. Hoster had to threaten to sell it back so she would stop.   
Hoster turns to her:  
“No. You are going to ruin your dress”  
“Father, please!” she insists.  
“I said no!” he shouts and she startles a bit before looking down.   
They all walk out of the castle, Petyr with them, and gets in two different chariots. Aylis is with Lysa and Edmure, while Cat and Hoster are in the second one. Aylis looks around the road excitedly. But they are soon in Harrenhal, and everyone leaves in different directions. Hoster goes to meet Lords, and takes Aylis with him. Edmure goes with Cat to see the Starks, Lysa follows them, obviously unwillingly. Aylis moans, willing to follow Cat, but Hoster holds her firmly, and Brynden, who has joined them, tries to cheer her up. Hoster introduces her to several Lords she does not even know about, and, soon, Cat joins them with the Starks and their host, Lord Whent. Aylis beams when she sees Brandon, holding Cat’s arm. By him is a young man who looks a lot like him, and introduces himself as Eddard Stark. With Ned, stand Robert Baratheon, Lyanna Stark, and an unknown man. Aylis looks up at them all and her eyes stop on the last young man: she stares at him as if it was the first time she sees a man. He is tall, almost as much as Robert, and they share the same black hair, the same blue eyes. Although, as much as Robert is smiling, this one looks clearly pissed of being here. Robert puts a hand on his shoulder:  
“The killjoy here is my brother, Stannis”, and heartily laughs right after.   
Aylis curtseys as she has been taught to and Stannis slightly smiles. Lord Whent turns to them:  
“Lord Tully, Lord Baratheon, would you like to see your chambers?”   
“Stannis, would you be kind enough to stay with Aylis?” Hoster looks at him. “I have matters to discuss and Edmure needs to come with me”  
Stannis looks a little puzzled, but still nods quickly and walks away. Aylis follows him obediently, and soon needs to run to follow him. As they walk together, she talks about Riverrun, the castle, her family. Stannis barely says a word. They go to the Godswood. There, she sits down and Stannis looks around him:  
“It is not very careful for you to be on your own”, he says, a hand on the handle of his sword.   
Aylis looks at him and smiles:  
“I am not alone. You are here. You will protect me if something happens.”  
Stannis smiles slightly and looks around: it is the first time he goes there, and he must say it is quite nice. The tourney does not interest him, and he is not really pleased with the presence of the little girl either, but he adapts to it. He feels her look upon him and it embarrasses him.   
Aylis cannot take her eyes off the young man standing in front of her. Her eyes greedily run from his face, pleasant, to his strong arms and chest, and his large hands. She feels he could smash her skull with his bare hand if he wanted to. When she will marry, she would like her husband to look like him. Tall and strong, a man who could protect and love her, and who will give her healthy children. A black crowned stag, standing on a gold field, proudly rearing, is embroidered on his tunic. House Baratheon. Words: Ours is the Fury. Seat: Storm’s End. Lord: Robert Baratheon. She automatically repeats in her head what she has been taught by the maester of Riverrun. She is still very young, but has developed a passion for the different houses of the realm. She often plays with Cat and Lysa, asking them what are their favorite words, apart from their own of course, the most beautiful sigil, the most impressive castle. Aylis liked Highgarden, tho she has never been there. But from what people said about it, she is sure she would love it. Cat, of course, is all about Winterfell. Lysa talks about Casterly Rock. None of them is appealed by the regent house, or the capital. They love being with their own people, and wish they would go on this way, all of them. She notices how Stannis looks at the Godswood, and says:  
“My family used to worship the Old Gods before the Andals came. I have always loved them. I wish we could still worship them. Maybe they would hear my prayers, because, obviously, the Seven do not. Do you believe in the Gods, Lord Stannis?”  
“I am not a Lord”, he smiles a bit and shakes his head. “I have stopped believing in them when my parents died.”  
Aylis bites her lips, ashamed with her mistake:  
“I am sorry for your loss. How did they die?”  
She was still a little girl, and very curious. Stannis sits by her:  
“Their ship sank.”  
As he finishes his sentence, a sudden rustle and a blurry vision makes her cry out with fear. Stannis chuckles:  
“Do not be afraid. It is simply Proudwing.”  
On his forearm, stands a goshawk. Aylis beams and holds her hand at him. Stannis moves away:  
“Careful! She can pinch.”  
“I love her name”, she smiles again and stares at Stannis, as his hand gently strokes the grey feathers. He slightly smiles as he looks at his bird, when Proudwing’s beautiful orange eyes stare at the little girl.   
“Thank you”, the young Baratheon says, and he lets Proudwing fly away from them.   
“Has your father bought her to you?” she asks.  
He shakes his head and looks at her:  
“No. I found her. She was injured. I took care of her. She can fly now.”  
She smiles huge:  
“So you love animals?”  
“Not all of them”, he shrugs. “I don’t like cats.”  
Aylis laughs heartily:  
“My favourite ones are horses! I have a pony, Father has offered me for my name day! His name is Smudge!”  
“So you ride horses?” Stannis raises an eyebrow.   
She nods frenetically:  
“Cat says I ride as good as a boy!” she proudly asserts.  
Stannis smiles: he had thought this time with her would be boring, but she is indeed quite entertaining. Aylis giggles and strokes the tree they’re leaning on, before losing her smile suddenly:  
“I wish gods would listen to me, sometimes.”  
“What do you ask them?” he carefully asks, not willing to be rude to her.   
“That my father loves me more. That my mother comes back to life”, she plays with grass at her feet.   
“How did your mother die?” he asks again.  
“Giving life to me. That’s why Father hates me”, Aylis mumbles.   
“I am sure he does not hate you. But your mother cannot be revived. She is dead, you need to accept it”, he tells, her staring at her. “If you live all the time in childish dreams, if you always believe in what the songs and the poems say, if you keep living on illusions, your heart will be quickly and very easily broken.”  
She stares at him, a bit shattered by how brutally he says that, but also impressed by his honesty. Her heart hammers violently in her chest, and she knows it is not because he has just made her sad. There is something else she feels, something new, something she has never experienced before. Without even realizing it, she leans on him and places a kiss on his cheek. He smells good, she tells herself, and his skin is soft and warm.   
“My lady”, a voice does, and she turns to the person who said that. It is a servant, and she looks at them weirdly.   
“The feast is ready. If you would follow me”, she curtseys and walks away. Stannis stands up, helps Aylis doing the same and they leave together, Stannis lost in thoughts.   
The tourney lasts for five days. Every night, when Aylis joins her bed, she dreams of Stannis. Sometimes he is a conqueror, on a beautiful horse; sometimes, he is just a common man, sat on the grass. Every time, she is older, and not a simple little girl. At days, she tries to stay with him, which is not difficult as Cat herself does not leave the company of Brandon, Eddard and Robert. She watches the tourney and cannot decide if she likes it or not. She is just happy Stannis does not participate. The defeated knights are thrown to the ground, some seriously injured. On the first day, Jaime Lannister, who Hoster intended to betroth to Lysa, is welcomed by his new brothers in the kings guard. Lord Tywin is not at the tourney, and it is rumored he was furious after Aerys: Jaime is his heir, and, as a knight of the king’s guard, he cannot marry or have children. Tywin’s only heir is then Tyrion, the Imp he hates. Jaime’s sister, Cersei, lives in King’s Landing with their father, as he is the Hand of the King. People say Tywin wanted to marry him to split the twins, but no one knows why. A mysterious jouster also appears, wearing a shield with a smiling tree on it. He defeats three squires before disappearing on the following day. No one ever knows who he is, and why he has disappeared.   
During the first evening, Howland Reed had been attacked and Lyanna Stark happened upon them and chased them away. She has taken care of him before introducing him to her brothers. During the feast, as Aylis, very tired with the day, was about to fall asleep, Rhaegar Targaryen, the king’s son, sang a romantic song. Aylis has thought it was pretty cheesy, but she has seen Lyanna crying, her brother Benjen mocking her and Lyanna, as revenge, pouring wine on her little brother’s head. They all had a good laugh and then had gone to bed.   
At the end of the tourney, as Rhaegar defeats Ser Barristan Selmy, he is declared as the winner of the tourney and chooses a new Queen of beauty. Aylis is here, by her father’s side, cheering with everyone else, when the handsome prince passes by his wife with a crown of blue winter roses and hands it to Lyanna Stark. Immediately, the cheers and the clasps stop. Lyanna stares at him, takes the crown, when Elia Martell stares blankly in front of her. Aylis looks at her and sees a tear rolling down on her face.


	12. Misunderstood

Riverrun, 281 AC  
Lying down under a tree, the Tully children enjoy the warmth of this afternoon. From what the ancient say, this year has been the warmest since a very long time. The fruits have been sweet and juicy all year long, and the small folk have been very happy with the harvests. But the end of the year is getting closer, and the peaches and strawberries have been replaced by the apples and the peers. Edmure had seen the cook and asked for an apple pie. No one could resist this adorable little boy, the cook even less. And here he is, running to join his sisters, waiting for them. The cook had cut the pie and they share it together. By them run the Red Fork, wide and placid. Their uncle Brynden often told them the mud of the river is red because of the hair color of the Tullys, and that too many of them have bathed in the river, hence giving it this colour. It is a lie, of course, but they still enjoy those legends. In front of them, not far, stand their castle. Petyr is inside, despite the warm sun shining brightly, and the perspective of a hot apple pie waiting for him. Edmure tried to make him join them, but he stubbornly refused.   
When their bellies are filled with pie, they all lay side by side, the auburn hair and Aylis’s dark one spread all over the green grass. The youngest of them close her eyes, enjoying the stroke of a gentle wind on her face, the freshness of the grass tickling the back of her neck and making her shiver with contentment. She lets out a loud sigh and she hears Cat chuckling. She smiles: she has always loved Cat’s laugh. But, right now, as she keeps her eyes shut, she does not see Cat, or Lysa, or Edmure, or Riverrun. She sees Stannis, she imagines his hands, his sword, the blue of his eyes, the black of his hair.   
“What did you think of the Tourney, Aylis?”  
She opens her eyes and groans as Stannis’s image vanishes suddenly. She turns to Lysa, and shrugs:  
“The King looked old and ill. The Prince is a cunt.”  
They all laugh suddenly, half genuinely amused, half outraged. Catelyn places a hand on her mouth:  
“Aylis, you spent too much time with Robert Baratheon back then! You cannot say this word.”  
The little girl turns her big blue eyes to her, and her eyebrows fold in a big frown:  
“Why not?”  
Lysa bursts out laughing:  
“He will be your king one day, Aylis. You need to respect him.”  
“Why would I respect him? Have you not seen what he has done? His wife was crying! It was so sad! And no one cared.”  
They stop laughing and exchange knowing looks: indeed, a lot of people cared. Aylis must have not remembered how everybody went silent when Rhaegar gave these flowers to Lyanna Stark. Simple flowers, but which meant so much. Lysa clears her throat and changes the subject:  
“Don’t you think Prince Rhaegar is handsome?”  
Aylis shrugs: she has never understood why the Targaryens look so handsome for everybody. They especially look unnatural to her: their purple eyes, their silver hair. The Targaryens do not even look human. Lysa raises an eyebrow at her shrug:  
“Really? You would not like to marry one of his children?” she asks again and Aylis shakes her head.   
“Who would you marry then?” Lysa asks again, obviously amused by her sister’s reactions.  
The two nouns rush out of her mouth before she even thinks about it. He obsesses her, night and day. A long silence settles in and her siblings burst out with laughter. She looks at them, and scowls, more and more nastily, feeling her cheeks burning with anger and shame. Shame of being openly mocked by the people she loves the most in this world. Edmure is rolling over, unable to stand as he laughs so hard.  
“What is so funny?” Aylis glares at them.   
Cat is the first one to calm down:  
“Is he not a bit old for you? And are you not a bit young to think about teenagers?” she teases her.   
Aylis softens slightly but still crosses her arms against her chest:  
“No”, she stubbornly says.   
Edmure lets out muffled shouts: he cannot stop laughing. Aylis stands up and runs back to the castle, before they see her tears rolling down her cheeks. They call at her, but she does not listen, runs back through the great door, and to the room where they all study. There, not even paying attention to Maester Vyman, she grabs ink, a quill and parchment and runs away. She passes through the Great Hall to the Godswood. Her heart hammers in her chest, she feels sweat running in her back and between her thighs but she does not care. Her eyes are blurried by her tears and she suddenly stops once she finds herself in the garden. The trees have always comforted her, when she was feeling sad, and she hopes she could find comfort here again. She sits under a huge redwood, and stares blankly at the carved weirwood, as if it is staring back at her. She sniffles noisily and grabs the quill, puts the tip of it in the ink and writes on the parchment:  
“Deer Stannis,   
I hop you are allrigt.”  
She stops here: should she go on and tell him why she feels so sad, why the parchment might be damped with tears? She shrugs and decides to write everything. She cannot hold it anymore and, anyways, she does not expect an answer.   
“Seenc the Toorneye, I am always sinking abaout you. I weashe you coold bee her with me. Touday, my sisters hav ask me woo I want to mary end I sayd yoo. Zey mock me and naw I eight theim. I lov you Stannis, I hav lovt you seence the momant I sow you.   
Fo revere yourz,  
Aylis Tully.”  
She needs almost half an hour to write the letter, doing her utmost with her handwriting. But she is pretty proud of herself; she has not done many spelling mistakes. She folds carefully the letter when the ink is dry, and runs back to the aviary. Here, she finds wax and a seal, and she seals the letter, before wrapping it around one of the raven’s leg. She watches it flying away, and for the first time in hours, a smile roves on her lips.   
She remains mad at her siblings for days and moans noisily when she realizes, as she is with them for her lessons, how many spelling mistakes she indeed has done in the letter. Stannis is going to think she is a perfect dipstick. Every day, she stays with her father, hoping a raven comes to her with an answer. She does not even know how long it takes for a raven to fly from Riverrun to Storm’s End. She also asks for a hawk at her father, but he just frowns:  
“Since when do you like hunting?”  
Last time they killed a stag, she had cried for days when they had taken the beast back in the castle. Edmure had been with their father, and he was proud as a peacock. Aylis had hated the sight of it, the blood, the eyes wide opened of the beast, his mouth discovering his teeth, and she had thought he must have cried out for help. A shiver had overwhelmed her and she had run away. And now, she wants a hawk?  
“Oh, I would not use it for hunting, Father! He would be my friend!!” she enthusiastically exclaims.   
Hoster Tully looks down at her, smiling tenderly. What will this world will do to such innocence and naivety: she is six years old, and she needs to grow up. Before long, he will start looking for a husband for her. And once she would have bled, she would not be his anymore. She would be another man’s and, he hopes, a good one, who would treat her well. Aylis’s father does not answer her wish: he just cups her lovely face in his hands, strokes his mother-like cheekbones and lays a gentle kiss on her brow, before ordering her to go play with her siblings.


	13. Correspondence

Storm’s End, 281 AC  
Maester Cressen walks through the castle to see if any message has arrived today. He startles slightly when he sees a raven, and a letter with the Tully’s seal on it. What does Lord Hoster want to Stannis? He wonders. Maybe it is for Robert. Waiting to get married to Lyanna Stark, Robert is now in Storm’s End, and has left for a hunt as soon as sun has risen. Cressen takes the paper out of the bird’s leg and smiles more and more as he reads the letter. It is not from Hoster Tully, but indeed from his youngest daughter, Aylis. And it is honestly the most adorable letter he has ever read. Still smiling, he takes the letter to Stannis, who is having his breakfast in the Great Hall. He wakes up early, as his brother, but everyday he goes to swim in the sea, sometimes for two hours, and he then comes back to the castle, changes into clothes and goes eat. When Cressen comes in, he notices Stannis’s hair is still wet from the swim. In front of him, on the big wooden table, a plate has been placed, with a piece of meat, bread and cheese. In his cup, his traditional lemon water. Stannis has not taken a liking in wine, or ale. Robert cannot stop teasing him about this, saying he drinks like a maiden. His brother does not react: he knows Robert only waits for a reaction. Cressen lets out a sigh as he thinks about that: he wishes the brothers would be closer but he cannot control it. He must accept their differences. Stannis looks up at him when he gets in and sees the parchment. Cressen bows slightly:  
“A letter for you, Stannis.”  
“Me?” he raises an eyebrow surprised.   
Stannis is not used to receive letters: Robert is the Lord of Storm’s End and, even if Stannis is his castellan, Robert is still here often enough to take care of the business of the castle and of his lands. Still surprised, he holds his hand at Cressen and the maester slips the letter in it. He watches him carefully, impatient about his reaction. Stannis unfolds the later and sips lemon as he reads. He looks a bit surprised but then, no other feeling shows through his sullen face. He folds the letter back and puts it on the table. Cressen moves to take it back but Stannis stops him:  
“I will answer her soon.”  
“Alright, Stannis”, he nods and leaves the Great Hall, just when Renly joins his big brother. Cressen sees him standing on his tiptoes to lay a kiss on Stannis’s cheek. He barely reacts, just like when he read the letter.   
Stannis takes some time just before lunch to answer Aylis’s letter. Robert has come back from the hunt in the middle of the morning, with a roebuck. The cooks have started to butcher him so they could serve it for lunch. In his little office, Stannis sits on the chair by the window, and stares a moment at the sea. It is a beautiful and warm day, the sea is calm and he closes his eyes, enjoying the soft sound of the waves lapping the base of the cliff. He loves the sea for its beauty, its wildness, and he hates it for what she had taken away from him. His parents, his happiness, his laugh, his smile. He reads again Aylis’s letter: he has noticed how Cressen was staring at him. He bets the maester has laughed at the letter. It is cute, indeed. Just because he cannot show it, does not mean he does not feel it. But what can he answer? She is a little girl. She should be dreaming of marrying Renly, and not him. Although, she is the daughter of a Lord, and he is a noble as well. He cannot ignore her letter. He has never been over expressive, but he has never been cruel. He soaks the quill in dark ink and starts writing:  
“Lady Aylis,  
I thank you for making enquiries about me. I am fine. My brother Robert and I take care of the affairs of our home and everything is in order lately. I hope, in Riverrun, all goes well.   
I advise you not to send letters with your father’s permission. You should not keep anything hidden from him. When you read a letter, let your Maester or maybe one of your sisters checking on it. Your letter was nice, but filled with spelling mistakes.   
I end this letter by sending you and your family my regards,  
Stannis of House Baratheon.”  
He reads it again. It will probably sound harsh and quick but he does not know how to do things in a different way. A handmaid knocks on the door and announces the lunch is ready. He stands up, seals the letter after folding it and sends it before joining his family in the Great Hall.   
A few weeks later, he is again having his breakfast in the Great Hall when Cressen comes in again, with the same look on his face. Stannis does not even need to ask and just holds his hand out, making Cressen holding back a chuckle. Aylis writes to him she has followed his advice and has asked her father to allow her to keep writing to him. Stannis hardly refrains himself to roll his eyes: he did not mean that, he meant to write a letter in general but… well she is just a child, and she may not understand everything very well. She also gives news about her siblings and Riverrun, and the letter is way longer than the first one. She precises at the end that if Stannis finds spelling mistakes, she is not to blame as their maester in Riverrun has helped her write the letter after her. This time, the letter was specifically addressed to “Stannis of House Baratheon”, and he answers it when he is quietly in bed, in the evening.   
Unexpectedly, Stannis takes a liking into this correspondence: Aylis looks pretty mature for her age, and they often confide themselves in each other. Stannis finds it easier to communicate with letters than with spoken words, and he allows himself to write about his parents, his siblings. Aylis does the same, writing how much she would like to know her mother, the time she spends with her uncle Brynden because her father would not agree to tell her about Minisa. They do not make each other wait for answers; they respond the same day they receive the letter: they know the waiting is long enough as they have to wait for ravens to reach each other’s castle.   
Stannis starts having a weird dream, not really knowing if it is a pleasant one or not. In his dream, he is a proud young stag, with small antlers, and he runs and grazes by a large river. The sun shines brightly and it warms him up, and the fresh grass cannot cool him down after a moment. He walks to the water and starts drinking, eagerly: the water tastes delicious, fresh and thirst-slaking. He closes his eyes with contentment and suddenly feels an intense pain on his muzzle. He opens his eyes and recoils suddenly. His eyes widen when he realizes a trout has “bitten” him. How can it be? The worst is that, despite his strength, the trout makes him fall in the water, violently, and that the current is very strong. He is not scared: he sees the trout jumping out and in the water by his side, and he knows he’s a good swimmer. The trout, whenever she gets out of the water, cries “smile, Stannis!” and stays silent again when she gets in.   
The dream lasts pretty long every time and, when he wakes up, Stannis is in a sweat, and feels weirdly calm and contented.


	14. Fury

Now it begins…

Riverrun, 282 AC

Sitting in the study room, Edmure looks through the window and lets out a loud sigh. The sun is shining, it is the middle of the morning, and he would give anything to leave this room and go play in the garden. He startles as he hears someone clearing his throat and looks up: their maester is standing right in front of him. Blushing, Edmure gets back to the reading of his book. He glances at his sisters: Lysa too looks miles away. Catelyn listens and writes quietly. And Aylis, her tongue slightly sticking out of her mouth, is learning orthography. Edmure has been asked to learn all the names, words and seats of the houses of the Riverlands. Catelyn is learning about all the towns and villages. Lysa is supposed to study the rivers of the Realm but she just stares blankly at her parchment. Looking back at his book, Edmure realizes he is just looking at House Allyrion of Dorne. He moans with exasperation, knowing he will probably have to spend his whole afternoon studying. Before the maester could reprimand him, the door opens suddenly. They all look up and Aylis exclaims:  
“Uncle Brynden!”  
“Hello children”, their uncle smiles at them before turning to the maester. “I need Edmure, maester Kym”, he says and Edmure feels an intense relief overwhelming him. Kym frowns a bit, not used to be interrupted during the children’s studies but he nods silently and Edmure jumps out of his chair. Lysa moans “Unfair!” and Edmure sticks his tongue out at her as he walks out.   
Brynden lays a hand on his shoulder and Edmure looks up at him:   
“Where are we going to?”  
“I wanted you with me to go fetch the gift for your sister’s nameday”, Brynden explains. “We are going in town.”  
Edmure’s eyes widen with excitement: he loves going there, meeting the small folk and seeing what will belong to him. He stops walking to hug him tight and smiles hugely at him:  
“Thank you for taking me out of here”, he chuckles.   
Brynden ruffles his hair gently:  
“No problem, boy.”

They walk to the saddles, prepare horse and pony and leave together. Edmure has a smile locked on his face since they left. He loves being outside, able to smell the fresh grass, the scent of the river, hearing its sweet sound as it runs by them. When they get in town, the small folk recognize them and bow before them. The Tully heir feels his heart swollen with pride: his family is loved, he can see that, and respected by the other Lords. He hopes he can meet to their expectations, as well as to his father’s. Edmure feels Hoster prefers Cat. Is it because she is a firstborn? He does not know, but he still feels it. All the other children do. Except maybe Aylis, totally lost in happiness since she has started this correspondence with Stannis Baratheon. But, right now, he feels acknowledged as the heir of Riverrun. He gently smiles at the small folk, answering their greetings, still following Brynden closely. His uncle leads him to a merchant selling birds and Edmure frowns slightly:  
“A bird?” he asks his uncle, surprised.   
He thought he would buy her a nice dress, or jewels, girls’ gifts basically.   
“A hawk. She asked for one”, Brynden shrugs.   
He had never had children of his own and his nieces and nephew have a special place for him. He loves them as if they were his own. He wants to please the little girl for her name day so he would buy exactly what she asked for. The merchant comes to them with a huge smile: the fact that everyone sees the heir of Riverrun getting in his shop will be very good for business. Edmure looks around him: several birds, of every size and color, stand in cages. Some look very miserable; others sing and fidget when they see him. The more they get into the shop, the bigger the birds are. And, eventually, they come to see the hawks. They all look very beautiful, some grey, some brown, all with fierce eyes and large beaks. The merchant present the three types of birds: broadwings, longwings, shortwings. He even talks about owls used in falconry, but they are very rare, he precise. The broadwings are obviously the bigger birds: golden eagles, buzzards. Brynden explains this is a gift for a little girl, and that those birds would be too difficult to handle for her, although she has trained with her father’s birds. The merchant smiles, and presents the smaller birds: peregrine, lanner and gyrfalcons. Brynden turns to his nephew:  
“What do you think, Edmure?”  
The boy stares at each bird: there are dozens different and he looks at the merchants:  
“I think my sister will want a male.”  
He exactly knows why his sister wants a falcon: she likes hunting; it is true, except she does not like killing animals herself. And he knows she will take good care of the bird. But she mostly does it to have a common point with Stannis. The merchant nods, and takes six cages:  
“Those are the males I have.”  
“Do they have names?” Edmure asks.   
“No. Their master is supposed to name them”, Brynden explains and the merchant nods approving:  
“Ser Brynden is right, m’Lord.”  
Edmure nods silently and stares at each of the bird: two are from each race. He immediately takes the gyrfalcons away: they are too big for his sister, in his opinion. He points at one of the two lanner falcons, the one with the most beautiful yellow eyes, and black marks under his eyes. The merchant smile:  
“Very good choice, m’Lord. He’s a fine hunter; he can kill preys an eagle would get.”  
He bows and prepares the falcon, putting him in a wider cage. Edmure proposes to hold the cage as Brynden pays the merchant and leaves with his nephew. They get back on horses and ride back to Riverrun.   
Once they get here, they all gather in the evening to celebrate Aylis’s name day. She squeals excited when she opens her gifts, and Edmure brings the falcon they bought, hidden under a sheet. Aylis clasps her hands and kisses her brother and uncle, who tells her:  
“I hope you will like it.”  
Aylis hugs him and slowly takes the sheet off, gasping heavily when she sees the bird.   
“Thank you, uncle!!! It’s so beautiful!!”  
The falcon cries and Aylis opens the cage immediately, making it go on her arm and giving it meat.   
“What is his name?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with happiness.   
“It’s a male, and the merchant said you had to find his name yourself.”  
Immediately, Aylis starts thinking about names. She wanted it to have a link with Stannis. Stannis. No, of course not. Bara? No, sounds like a girl’s name. She thinks very fast. Seat: Storm’s End. Storm? No, she does not like it. Words: Ours is the fury. Fury!   
“I’ll call him Fury”, she nods proudly.   
Edmure groans a bit:  
“Fury is a girl’s name.”  
“No it’s not!” Aylis protests.  
“Yes it is!” Edmure retorts.  
“Children!” the loud voice of their father calms them down immediately. “This is supposed to be a happy day. Stop quarrelling and eat.”  
The cook had prepared a beautiful cake and they obediently sit at their places. Hoster nods at both of them and they all ate silently. The Lord of Riverrun is torn between the joy of celebrating his child’s name day, and the sorrow this day represents for him. He chooses the happiness, not without having a thought for Minisa, his wife, who, he was sure, was taking care of all of them from where she was. 

xxxxxxxxxx

The Tully family is reunited in front of the door leading to the Great Hall of their castle. Hoster checks silently on each of his children and Catelyn stares at the gate, her heart beating fast. Aylis looks up at her with a huge smile: within minutes, Brandon Stark will appear here. They would announce the date of their marriage during his stay at Riverrun. They hear horses neighing and, from the road, Brandon Stark leading some escort. He looks very handsome on his horse, still wearing furs from Winterfell, although the weather is way warmer in Riverrun. Catelyn stares at him smiling, and Aylis notices how Petyr is glaring at her. Brandon gets down from his horse and Aylis is very impressed by how tall he is. He is also very handsome, black mane and piercing grey eyes. He walks to Lord Hoster, greets him and then turns to Catelyn. She curtseys, followed by Lysa and Aylis, and Edmure bows. Lord Hoster introduces him to his other children and Petyr and they soon get in the castle, where Cat makes him visiting her home. Everyone is invited for a feast, and the Tullys are overjoyed to see Catelyn so happy. But the good mood does not last. The day after, Petyr decides to challenge Brandon for a duel: he tells him the winner will marry Cat. Brandon, outraged and known as being hot-blooded, immediately agrees to fight him. None of the Tullys try to reason them, and they all meet in the lower bailey. There, Edmure asks to be Brandon’s squire and the young Stark accepts. The girls go with them and they watch Brandon putting on his armor, with Edmure’s help. Then they see Petyr walking to them, wearing only a helm, breastplate and mail. As Brandon looks at him, he takes most of his own armor to keep only the same things than Petyr. This one turns to Catelyn:  
“Would you give me your favor, Cat?”  
She shakes her head, and gets to Brandon, gives him her favor and tells him:  
“Please, do not kill him. He is like my brother.”  
Brandon smiles at her:  
“Do not worry. I will spare him…as much as I can.”  
Hearing them only increases Petyr’s anger, and he charges Brandon. Aylis yelps with fear and takes Lysa’s hand, squeezes it tightly. Lysa is staring at the two young men fighting, but Brandon is way taller, stronger and better than Petyr. Her own hand squeezes her sister’s as tight as she can. He would not even need to fight if he wanted her, and not Cat. She would give him everything he would ask. She would kill for him. If only he looked at her…   
The swords shuffle pretty quick, but it’s very quickly clear that Petyr is no match to Brandon. Aylis watches him getting dozens of cuts, and stumbling over, trying to avoid Brandon’s sword the best he can. “Come on, boy, give in!” the young man shouts. Petyr shakes his head “Never!” and looks at Cat. Aylis feels he’s not only talking about this duel… Brandon, who found all this pretty amusing at first, but who is now clearly pissed at Petyr, stops refraining himself. Lysa cries out when Petyr yelps with pain as Brandon’s sword cut his shoulder. Blood rushes out, and Petyr falls on the ground, kneeling down. Brandon walks to him: “Give in”, he orders him. Petyr breathes hard, and winces with pain as he stands up slowly. He has trouble even holding his sword now, but he stares at Brandon, and whispers: “Never”. The Stark heir raises his sword, and, with a formidable backhand, makes him fall on the ground, unconscious, blood staining the fresh grass on which he has fallen. Lysa rushes on him and even Edmure stares at him, shaking like a leaf. Brandon wipes his sword and shakes his head, hands his hand out at Cat. She takes it without a single look at Petyr.   
The boy is taken back to the castle and is healed: he has several wounds, some deeper than the others. He remains unconscious for a few days and, when he wakes up, Edmure goes to ask about him, but he refuses to see him. Lysa stays with him all the time, but Cat refuses to see him as well. Aylis does not hold any grudge at Petyr and decides to go see him. She has picked some flowers and has prepared a pretty bouquet for him. She walks in the corridors to his room and stands on her tiptoes to open the door. She leans on the handle and gasps with surprise: Lysa is with Petyr in bed, and they are naked, making strange noises. Aylis does not understand what is going on, but she feels she should not stay here. She closes the door back and comes back later, when the servants bring food to Petyr. He looks terrible, she thinks, but at least he is alive. He thanks her for the flowers, and they talk for a moment before she feels tired and leaves to her own room. On her way, she passes by Lysa, who has the brightest smile she has ever seen on her sister’s face.


	15. The end of innocence

Storm’s End, 282 AC

Stannis is woken up by a ray of sunshine crossing his room in his family’s castle. He opens his eyes and closes them right after, dazzled by the sun. He has slept long, way longer than what he usually sleeps. He wraps the blanket tighter around his body and shivers slightly: the weather is cooler lately. He would want to get back to sleep: he feels so tired. He gets to bed early, falls asleep almost immediately, but he does not know a resting sleep. He dreams, all the time, every night, dreams which are exhausting. It is mostly the same dream, every night: he is a stag, and he plays, or follows, or listens to a trout. In the evenings, he feels eager to drift off to sleep and to find again these animals. He perfectly knows what the trout means. Sometimes, as he writes to Aylis, he would like to ask her if she makes weird dreams about stags. But he never dares so. He still enjoys their correspondence, but he still tries to keep her at a distance. Sooner or later, he will have to marry, and so will she. He though can feel in her letters that her feelings have not decreased. But, now, in his room, he shuts his eyes tight, hoping to get back to his dreams. A loud knock on the door makes him startle and groan:  
“Yes?”  
“It is morning, Stannis”, Cressen’s voice rings out.   
Stannis sighs loudly and opens his eyes:  
“I am awake”, he says, loud enough so his maester can hear. He sits up in bed, and grabs a shirt to go have breakfast in the Great Hall. Renly and Robert are already here, and Stannis gently strokes Renly’s hair as he sits by him, after saying good morning to Robert:  
“Morning Stannis”, Renly smiles huge.   
“Good morning, Renly. How was your night?” he asks his brother.   
“Good. And yours? I heard you again”, Renly adds quietly after looking around him.   
Stannis feels turning red beetroot. It is not the first time Renly says that. Robert stares at them and laughs:  
“Stannis dreamt again of a girl!”  
Renly giggles and Stannis wishes he could bury himself with shame.   
“I do not dream of girls”, he honestly said. It was true, that was the worst. Sometimes he wishes he could get out of his own body to look at himself sleeping. Obviously, it would be very interesting.   
“You moan and you whimper”, Renly asserts and Robert laughs even more.   
“At least, it sounds good!” the oldest brother says.   
Stannis doesn’t reply and he eats the plate the servant has placed in front of him. Renly and Robert keep chuckling and laughing, and he does his best to stop listening to them.   
“Come on Stannis!” Robert shouts and brutally slaps his back. “Chase this sternness away! You always look like you’re in pain!”  
Stannis groans slightly with pain and scowls at him: Robert just laughs and downs a glass of wine. Already. It is just morning. Stannis hates his brother’s behavior. He misses the time when they were still boys, playing together, dueling like great knights. They were way older than Renly, who was still a boy, and thus, age had torn them apart instead of bringing them closer. And now, as Robert’s marriage with Lyanna Stark is getting closer and closer, Stannis feels he would get along way better with Renly. But what would the boy become? He does not want him to be too influenced by Robert. But, as the eldest, Robert, once he will get married, will push Stannis to get married as well. They will have to live with Robert and Lyanna, and he does not think marriage would calm him down. Maybe Robert would send Renly away, as he has been sent away himself, to be fostered by some Lord. Maybe Stannis could become a knight, to protect his home. He would like that, he thinks, even though he would not be the best fighter. Renly sounds promising, he thinks as he looks at his younger brother walking out to get dressed.   
“Have you thought about marriage?” Robert asks him and he is thrown out of his reverie.   
“No”, he says, feeling already sweaty at the idea.   
“Well, you should. You’re old enough now, Stannis. Half of our bannermen have daughters who would be perfect for a Baratheon”, he swallows a piece of meat and stares at Stannis.   
For a Baratheon. But for me?  
“Don’t worry”, Robert says to comfort him as he sees him looking down on his plate. “We will find you someone. You are a Baratheon.”  
Stannis hardly holds back a laugh: Robert does not understand. He never understood Stannis. But laughing at him will be insulting his Lord, so he just nods and finishes eating. As they decide to go have a ride after breakfast, Cressen rushes in the Great Hall, with a letter in his hand. Stannis stands up suddenly, fearing it comes from Aylis, and that something has happened in Riverrun. Seeing Cressen’s face, the message does not bring good news. But Cressen walks to Robert, and not to Stannis. This one almost sighs with relief, before looking at Robert. He can see all emotions crossing his brother’s face as he reads the letter. A smile first, when he sees the handwriting. Then, as he hears the first words, shock. And, at last, anger. Fury. Robert wraps his fist around the paper and crashed it furiously. Stannis stares at him: Robert looks down, staring at an invisible point on the ground. Stannis knows he is angry, but, usually, Robert expresses his anger fully: bellowing insults and punching people or things is Robert’s way of being angry. Now, he looks calm. Looks only.   
“What is it?” Stannis simply asks.   
Robert holds his fist at him, and Stannis takes the parchment out, not without difficulty. He leans it on the table to smooth it and reads:  
“Dear Robert,  
Sorrow and worries make me write to you today. Brandon has received terrible news: Lyanna has been abducted, by Rhaegar Targaryen. We have no idea where she is, if she is still alive. No idea. I had to let you know. Brandon has left for King’s Landing. I am scared for him.   
I hope I can give you better news in my next letter.  
Your friend,   
Ned”  
By the moment he has finished reading the letter, Robert has gone. Stannis follows him, Cressen right on his tracks.   
“Where are you going?”  
“Call the bannermen”, Robert groans.   
“What for?” Stannis stares dumbfounded.  
Robert turns to him and yells:  
“He has stolen my wife!!!!”  
“Are you going to start a war for this?” Stannis retorts calmly.   
It has been a while since the demonstrations of Robert have stopped scaring him. Cressen has placed by his side, staying behind him.   
“I am going to kill this miserable prince”, Robert groans again.   
“You cannot do anything, Robert. Please, listen to me, I…”  
“You what??” Robert spats and Stannis receives a bit of his saliva on his cheek. He does not move.   
“You don’t know anything about love, you brat!! If you had loved someone in your miserable life, you would react the same way than me!!!!”  
Stannis knows it is anger speaking. Anger, and fear. It still hurts him and makes tears birthing in his eyes. Robert stares at him, hoping for an answer, hoping they could settle this with a fight. He would pretend it is Rhaegar, he would beat the hell out of him and he would feel better after that. Fighting and having sex have always been his ways of taking things out. He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up, surprised: it’s Stannis. Their similar eyes stare at each other and Stannis says:  
“I don’t know how you feel, it’s true. But I don’t want to lose my brother. I know we are as different as night and day, but I love you. And I know you love me, even if you suck at showing it”, he half smiles. Even Robert smiles, not used to see his brother use such words. Stannis says again: “Please, don’t do anything stupid. Let Brandon Stark go to King’s Landing and see what happens. You cannot risk everything.”  
Robert looks at him, and then at Cressen, who nods slightly. He sighs, lays his hand on his brother’s one and smiles slightly:  
“What about this ride?”


	16. Betrayal

Riverrun, 282 AC

Petyr has been sent home by Lord Hoster for a few weeks now. Lord Tully has been mad at him for dueling Brandon, threatening the alliance with the Starks he has been trying to establish. The boy has been so badly injured during this fight that Hoster has honestly thought he would pass away.   
Today, Lord Hoster is working in his room, examining the new taxes ordered by King Aerys. He sighs as he thinks about his future son-in-law, off to King’s Landing, despite Hoster trying to calm him down. Stark’s hot blood will be their doom, he thinks as he stares blankly through the window. And Aerys is not known for being merciful. He remembers last time he saw the King, at the Harrenhal tourney: how long and dirty his hair was. Seeing his hands and his 6 inches long nails have made him want to throw up. But, he is the King, and will be until his death. Then Rhaegar will get on the throne and life will probably be the same for most of people of Westeros. Singing songs with a harp does not feed people. Farmers feed people. But Rhaegar does not look mad or cruel. He will make the life of the Lords, and thus those of the small folk, easier. A knock on the door makes Hoster start and he sits up in his chair, clearing his throat:  
“Come in!” he says.   
The door opens and Lysa gets in, grinning hugely. Hoster raises an eyebrow: his daughter has been pretty stern since Petyr left. Hoster has known she loved him almost right away. Girls, his girls even more, are not very good with hiding their feelings. At least, when they try. Seeing her genuinely happy warm his heart and he gives her a sweet smile:  
“Hello Lysa. You look happy”  
Lysa rushes on him and hugs him tight:  
“I am Father. I am so happy”, she whispers in his ear and her hair tickles him, making him chuckle.   
“I can tell”, Hoster strokes her hair and looks at her. Her eyes are shining with happy tears:  
“Father, I am with child.”  
Hoster’s smile disappears as suddenly as it had come. He stands up brutally:   
“Are you kidding me?”  
Lysa startles and recoils, looking down:  
“N-no”, she mutters.   
“Who is the father?” he asks, even if he knows the answer she is going to give him.   
“Petyr”, Lysa honestly says. “I wish to marry him, Father.”  
Hoster rubs his face and stares at her:  
“This cannot be”, he asserts.   
Lysa looks up at him, and, on her face too, all sign of happiness has vanished.   
“I do not want my child to be a bastard!” she protests. “I love him! I want to marry him!!”  
“A Baelish cannot marry a Tully”, Hoster calmly explains. “They are too low born for you, my daughter.”  
Lysa snorts loudly:  
“I do not care about this! He is nice and he loves me, I know he does. And he is smart, so smart, Father, you do not realize how high he is going to rise. One day, he will be more powerful than you”, she provokes him.   
Hoster does not answer the provocation: she is upset, he understands it well. He sighs and walks to her, takes her hands in his:  
“You need to understand how things work in this world, Lysa. You are a noble girl, and you will marry who I tell you to marry. Even if you were a small folk, you would marry who your father tells you to marry. There are no such things as love marriage in Westeros. Love is slow to build; it does not happen on the spot. And when it does, it is a destructive love, just as what you have lived with Petyr. Do you think Cat loves Brandon? Do you think he loves her?”  
Lysa shakes her head, tears rolling down on her cheeks:  
“I don’t know”, she sobs.  
“Alliances are created with marriage. Some of these marriages will remain loveless forever. And with some, love will happen, with time. I know it is hard to accept this, but, do not worry: we will find a man for you, who will love you and treat you well”, Hoster says gently, his thumbs stroking the delicate skin of his daughter.   
Lysa nods slowly: she does not want a man. She wants Petyr. But she has to obey her father, and marry the man he chooses for her, as Cat is going to marry Brandon Stark.   
Hoster looks at her: he has not talked about the baby, but there are no choices here: she needs to get rid of it. He knows her: she will never agree and could do something really stupid like running away to find Petyr back. Lord Tully wraps his strong arms around his daughter and whispers:  
“I will ask Maester Kym to prepare you something for the baby. Something to make it strong.”  
He feels her smiling against his cheek and she whispers:  
“Thank you, Father. Please, find a man who will accept my baby…”  
He shuts his eyes tight and nods:  
“I will.”  
As she relaxes against him, he opens his eyes and stares blankly at the wall in front of them. Forgive me…  
When she leaves, he joins Maester Kym and asks him to prepare moon tea. Kym is surprised but Hoster orders him not to ask anything and to just get the potion ready. Kym nods and bows before preparing it. In the evening, Hoster gets in Lysa’s chamber with the tea and makes her drink it. She smiles and thanks him. He shivers with shame, but he knows this is the best solution. He knows how bastards are treated in Westeros and he does not wish this for his daughter. He kisses her brow and leaves. His sleep is much tormented this night.   
He wakes up suddenly in the morning, yells ringing out in the castle: before he can stand up, Cat rushes in his room, Aylis and Edmure on her tracks:  
“Father! It’s Lysa!!! She is very sick!!!”  
Hoster orders them to leave outside and that he will see Lysa. He does not need to: as soon as they leave, Lysa arrives in his chamber. Wearing a nightgown, her beautiful hair tangled and half falling on her pale face, her mouth rolled over in a grimace of pain, she stumbles there.   
“What have you done??” she yells with a hoarse voice, letting him think she has been yelling for a moment. “Look at what you’ve done?!!!!” she yells louder, showing her nightgown, and blood staining the fabric between her legs.   
“Lysa, plea-”, Hoster starts but she starts yelling and crying at the same time.  
“You have killed my baby!! How dare you?!”  
She collapses on the floor and sways, holding her knees, in a fetal position. How ironic it is… She does not yell anymore: she just cries, loudly, weeping over her dead baby.   
“Petyr”, she sobs. “Petyr… my baby… I’m sorry Petyr, I’m so sorry…”  
Hoster stares at her, unable to move, unable to comfort her. She shouts, a terrible and weeping shout and she gives her father the most hateful look he has ever seen:  
“I will never forgive you this! Never! You hear me, Father?? You are nothing to me anymore! Nothing!!”  
Hoster does not answer. He just stares at her, raising his hand as if he wanted to move towards her, but lowering it down again and clenching his fists on the sheet. He does not know how long she stays here, but, when he looks up at her, she has left. He stands up and walks to the window: he sees Cat, Edmure and Aylis, lying on the grass, obviously having a talk all the three of us. Catelyn notices her father’s figure and joyfully waves at him. In his chamber, Hoster, his face covered with tears, tries to smile and waves back at her.


	17. The decision

Storm’s End, 282 AC

Sit on the wooden chair, his arms folded on its armrest, his hands joined, his index fingers patting his mouth nervously; Stannis is staring at the two parchments Cressen has placed in front of him hours ago. One of the letters bears the seal of his house. The other, the seal of the Royal family, the Targaryens.   
Cressen has given him three letters in the morning: those two, and one from Aylis. He has answered the Tully girl’s and, since, then, has not been able to open the two others. Now, it is past lunch time, he has not swallowed anything, unable to, a knot in his stomach painfully preventing him from even drink a cup of water. He closes his eyes a moment, feeling the warm sun stroking his face, making the Baratheon seal shine. Stannis notices it and resolves to read the letter. 

“Stannis,  
I know you are totally aware of why I am writing to you, so I will not lose time: fight for me. You know what he did to the Starks. You know what his son did to me. You cannot fight for this tyrant. Know that if you choose him above me, I shall show no mercy to you, brother or not.  
Your brother,  
Robert.”

His face remains impassible as he folds the parchment back and takes the other one. He breaks the seal and unfolds it completely:

“To Stannis of House Baratheon,   
I, Aerys of House Targaryen, second of His name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the first Men, Lord of the Seven kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, demands that you, Stannis of House Baratheon, answer my call to all of my subjects to subdue this infamous rebellion led by Jon of House Arryn, your brother Robert of House Baratheon and Eddard of House Stark. We, the noble Houses of Westeros, shall prevail and destroy every man, woman and child who supported the rebels. Now is time for you to choose: your King, or your brother. Respect the oath your ancestors sworn to my house, and I will name you Lord of Stom’s End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Choose the rebels, and I will kill each and every member of House Baratheon, erasing this family from Westeros forever.  
King Aerys II of House Targaryen.”

Stannis closes his eyes a second before placing the parchment by his brother’s letter. He has recognized Robert’s handwriting, hasty and messy, when the letter from Aerys was certainly written by another person. The handwriting was too neat and beautiful for the Mad King, whom people say he is close to death. He has signed, though, a trembling scribble at the end of the parchment.   
He stands up and leaves the room, and the castle, silently. Handmaids are busy working, and no one sees him as he climbs down to the beach. He sits on the fresh sand and, staring at the calm sea; he takes his boots off and lets the foam lick his toes. He remembers when everything has started: it did not even start with Lyanna Stark’s abduction, no. It has started when Brandon Stark rode to King’s Landing and called at Rhaegar Targaryen. The prince was not here. “Come out and die”, he had cried. The door has opened and Aerys Targaryen had walked out. He immediately imprisoned Brandon, and all the men who were with him, then sent a message to their fathers, held responsible for their son’s faults. Aerys executed them as soon as they got to King’s Landing but Rickard Stark asked for a trial by combat, and Aerys had agreed, but had chosen the fire as his champion. Dressed in his steel armor, ready to fight a kingsguard, Rickard had been suspended in the throne room, a fire burning under him. His son, Brandon, had a sword barely out of his reach and a noose around his neck. Every time he had tried to reach the sword to save his father, the noose had strangled him a little more. Rickard had burnt alive, and Brandon had died strangled. As soon as they had died, Aerys had called for Eddard and Robert’s head. This is when Jon Arryn had called his banner men, refusing to give in the young men who were like sons to him. Jon chose his feelings over his duty to the King and it is now his turn, Stannis’s turn to make this choice.   
He has done his duty, always has tried to, but now, he is lost. He has no father to advice him, Renly is too young to decide. Renly… He thinks about him. Choose the rebels, and I will kill each and every member of House Baratheon. Not the King’s handwriting, but very clearly his words. He has to protect his brother. The wisest thing would be to stand by the King. He sighs deeply and lies completely on the sand. Being here has always helped him clearing things out but now, a million different thoughts cross his mind. Their father would have not wanted to see his boys divided. And what would happen if Robert wins this war? Stannis knows his brother; he knows he would never forgive betrayal, especially coming from his own family. At best, he would send his brother to the Wall. His brother… Is fighting for an oath sworn hundreds of years ago more honorable than fighting alongside his brother? Shall his King prevail on his brother? What tells him Aerys does not think he is as responsible for this as his brother, and has already decided of his fate? The young man thinks about talking about it with Cressen but no, he needs to decide this alone. He turns his face to his castle, stares at it lengthily: Storm’s End has never been the most beautiful castle of Westeros. It is not in a fertile land like Highgarden, it is not impregnable like the Eyrie or Casterly Rock. Still, it is his castle, the heritage of his family, and he loves it, with all his heart. He smiles slightly when he thinks again of all this fake fights he had against Robert, and he remembers it’s in those woods he has found Proudwing, he remembers passing through the corridors and examining this weird pink thing who was crying and fidgeting and that his parents had called Renly. He could not forget about all this, turn his back on his family, on his brothers.   
By the end of the day, he has made up his mind, and, when he joins the castle, barefoot, holding his boots in one hand, he calls at Cressen. The old maester joins him as Stannis is changing his clothes for the dinner.   
“You asked for me, Stannis?” the Maester smiles at the boy.  
“I have. How many men do we have here?” Stannis asks.   
Cressen is taken aback with the question:  
“A few hundreds, Stannis. I’d say 500.”  
Stannis grinds his teeth, not reacting. 500. 500 men against the powerful houses that will stand by the Mad King. Robert is in the Eyrie, and will probably march to King’s Landing without caring about him. Still, he has made his choice.  
“Empty the castle. The small folk need to stay away from it. Stock up on food, as much as you can. I need to write a letter. I will join you for the dinner later.”  
He puts on a shirt and sits at his desk when he notices Cressen has not moved at all. He looks at Stannis dumbfounded and Stannis stands back up, joins him and leans his hand on his shoulder. Staring at the old maester’s eyes, he says firmly:  
“We are at war.”


	18. Determination

Riverrun, 282 AC

« Father, you have to help them!! »  
Hoster Tully is facing his two daughters, Catelyn and Aylis, holding hands, staring stubbornly at their father.   
The Rebellion has started since a few months already, but Hoster has not taken a side yet. He knows too well what he risks if he does so. But how could he explain politics to two young girls, who only see the glorious soldiers battling fiercely, when the armies of Riverrun stay home and safe. Catelyn has been the first to pledge for the Rebels, arguing Aerys had killed her betrothed. Which was true of course, but, still, Hoster has no desire to rush in a war which would lead to huge casualties among his men and his land. He thinks about the safety of his people, of course, but also of his children and their future. He could take advantage of a victory, whichever the side, but, for that, he must stay neutral.   
The rebels had started by taking the port of Gulltown, after some of Jon Arryn’s bannermen refused to follow him in the Rebellion and had decided to remain loyal to the King. Once they had won this battle, Robert Baratheon had joined his brother Stannis in Storm’s End, and called for his own bannermen as well. There again, some denied the call, and intended to walk on Storm’s End, but Robert heard about their plans, and forestalled them, beating them in Summerhall. With hostages, Robert has left again to Storm’s End. The Rebellion could have ended shortly, but, as Robert had left Storm’s End to march out, Randyll Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill, a loyalist to the King, had defeated Robert for the first time. This one had escaped to join Jon Arryn and Eddard Stark, but Lord Tarly, with Lord Tyrell, had marched on Storm’s End, and had been besieging the castle since then.   
And today, Lord Tully has received messages from Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn, to negotiate his support to their cause. The girls are unaware of this, for the moment. But their enthusiasm to defend them almost makes him smile. He looks at them both, none of them are smiling, the two girls have this same resolved pout, and their blue eyes are darkened by anger. Hoster sits down, facing them:  
“You do know our house has pledged an oath to the Targaryens”, he explains.   
Catelyn protests:  
“He has killed my future husband!!”  
“Because Brandon had threatened his own son to death. What would have you done in his place, Cat?” Hoster asks calmly.   
Slightly taken aback, Catelyn looks down but it is Aylis who protests in turn:  
“Stannis is besieged! I have tried to send ravens, they do not come back! And I never get an answer! Maybe he is dead, and no one could know about it!!!”  
Her eyes fill with tears but Hoster is not moved and says, a bit harshly:  
“Stannis is nothing to you, child. Why would I care if he died?”  
Even Cat looks up in a shock, and Aylis gasps loudly, hardly believing her father’s words:  
“I love him! You know I do!”  
“Childish love! You will love your husband, and it will be a man I will choose for you!! Just like I have chosen Brandon Stark for Cat, and Jaime Lannister for Lysa, before the King decided to name him in the kingsguard!!!”  
The loud voice of their father rumbles in the room and they take a step backwards. Hoster sighs with their reactions, and dismisses them quickly. This time, they do not say anything, and leave silently, Aylis crying softly, and Cat trying to comfort her, sending daggers to her father. Once he is alone, Hoster walks to his window and his eyes scrutinize his land. He knows he cannot escape this war and that, sooner or later, he will have to pick a side. Tywin Lannister, in Casterly Rock, will have to face the same decision. And with this decision would depend the future of their houses. Whoever might win this war will not spare any of the previous enemies. Robert would not care about the fact that Cat has been once betrothed to his best friend’s brother. Aerys would not care there was a time where Tullys and Targaryens lived together in peace. This war is too sentimental, too focused on egos: Robert’s one on a side, Aerys’s on the other. Wars to defend a land are cleaner, in a way. Now, whatever comes out of this, Hoster feels this will remain in the memories as an ugly war, a war that could have been avoided. The Lords fight, but their soldiers die. If he has to pick a side, Hoster wants to be sure it would worth it. He wants to be sure the future of his family, of his children, would be granted. And, to be sure of this, there is no other solution than weighing in his daughters with the negotiation. He has to talk about that with his maester, so he could advise him on the best thing to do. Until now, he will have to check on the ravens of the aviary because the messages his stubborn girl is sending to a besieged man could be a catastrophe, both for him and her.   
Aylis has joined her siblings, after wiping her tears away, and stays silently with them as they chat about the war. She hates that her father does not do anything to help Stannis. If he knew she would do anything to free him from the siege, maybe he would end up loving her. Sit on a chair in the children’s room; she is knitting with Lysa and Cat, when Edmure is exercising himself with a sword. Unable to concentrate, she sighs, leaves her work and gets at the window to watch Edmure closely. She smiles slightly as she sees his enthusiasm, and wonders if one day, he will have to fight in a war, like their father, or if he will live his whole life in peace. The future Lord of Riverrun, she thinks proudly. She knows that, by saying this, she is talking about their father’s death, but she loves her brother, dearly, and is sure he will be a great Lord for their people. Being only one year apart, they have been very close the first years of their lives, but she has scorned him when he mocked her love for Stannis. At this souvenir, she loses her smile and clenches her fists tightly along her ribs. She will prove them wrong, all of them. Her father, her brother, her sisters. Soon enough, they will know that she gets everything she desires.


	19. The Siege

Storm’s End, 282 AC

Carefully, his hand wraps around the leather halter. The horse recoils, his eyes rolling over. Whoever said horses are stupid animals have probably never met one. The tall bay gelding feels something is wrong. And even if the man clucks his tongue and that his hand caresses his neck, the horse does not trust him. He looks down at him, at the black hair and the blue eyes staring back at his black eyes. The man makes him step out of the stable and he sees the other horses watching him leave, curious. The horse shakes violently, terrified, and frail. He has not eaten for days, and the water the men give to them just allow them to survive. His hooves ring out against the grey cobblestones of Storm’s End. He almost thinks the man is going to lead him out and allows him to eat fresh grass. It has rained a lot lately, and he imagines the wonderful taste of the green grass in his mouth. But the man does not lead him to a gate: he walks him to the far end of the castle. The horse stops there, and snorts loudly, refusing to go further. He knows too well what happens at the far end of the castle. He neighs desperately and rears, almost trying to knock the man out. But he escapes his hooves and orders him to calm down. His grip on the halter tightens and he leads the horse with authority. They arrive in a calm spot of the castle, surrounded by the tall walls. The horse knows it is because the things that happen here should not be seen by everyone. Another man is waiting for him, wearing a protective apron. He rears again when he sees the big knife the man holds in his hand and the man who led him there holds him firmly. The man with the knife gets closer and, in a swift movement, slits his throat. Blood rushes out, splashes on the two men and on the ground, staining it red. The pain makes him neigh louder than ever, he tries to breathe out but, after only a few seconds, he whimpers and falls loudly on the ground. His eyes meet the man’s blue ones, and then stare blankly at the sun shining on his body.   
Unable to move for a moment, Stannis stares at the dead horse’s body. The butcher examines it and turns to Stannis:  
“We will have meat for days with him, if we carefully impose rationing.”  
Stannis nods silently and walks out, leaving the butcher to cut the carcass. He walks by the stables and notices how the horses stare at him: he looks at his clothes and realizes they are covered with blood. Looking away, he leaves to the inside of the castle, to his chamber. 

They had been besieged for weeks now, and had run out of food a few days ago. The horses would provide them with good meat, and they had been unable to feed them anyways. Stannis, from his chamber, can see the Tyrell and Tarly forces, just in front of the castle. Last night, the smell of their feasts had almost driven men crazy and it has been then Stannis has decided he would start killing the horses off. Some men have talked about surrendering the castle, but Stannis has refused: Robert has told him to hold the castle, and that is what he will do. He quickly takes his shirt off, and cleans it up, before taking another one and going to see Renly. He knocks on the young boy’s door, and comes in when the weak voice of Renly tells him to: he is laid on his bed, curled up in a fetal position, wincing with pain. Stannis has always privileged him for food, not because he is his brother, but because he is just a child. But now, the boy has to starve, as everyone else. Maester Cressen is by his side, holding the little kid’s hand, and looks up at Stannis: he has lost a lot of weight as well, the old and the young are always the ones who suffer the most when it is about hunger. Stannis sits by Renly and looks at Cressen:  
“How is he?”  
“He is weak”, Cressen whispers, not willing to panic the boy. Stannis surprisingly half smiles:  
“He will be better soon.”  
Renly weakly turns to his brother:  
“Has Robert arrived?”  
“No Renly. But I have found a way to feed ourselves”, Stannis explains, his hand grabbing Renly’s little one and squeezing it comfortingly.   
“H-how?” Renly asks.   
“The horses”, Stannis does not give further details.   
“Horses? That’s…gross…” Renly protests weakly, “I don’t want to eat horses…”  
“Renly, you need to understand the situation”, Stannis says a bit harshly. But hunger has a strange power over men, and he cannot escape it. He feels how his stomach rumbles, how it craves for food, how his clothes are all way too big for him now. He has not the patience to explain Renly about how a war is won. “We don’t have food anymore”, he keeps saying, staring at his brother’s face. “And the horses don’t have food either. They will all die. It is better if we make the most of their meat. A single horse can feed us all. You need to understand that. My own horse will have to die; your horse will have to die as well. I am sorry, but there are no other ways.”  
Renly starts crying softly, burying his face in the sheets:  
“Where is Robert? I want Robert!”  
Stannis grinds his teeth angrily: Robert, Robert! Robert is not taking care of him; Robert is not making sacrifices to feed him! He closes his eyes to calm down the wave of anger that could make him say things he would regret later. He is just a boy, after all. A boy who is terrified and who sees his oldest brother as the hero who is going to free them. Stannis understands, even though it aches more than hunger right now.   
“We have no news from him”, he honestly answers. “But I am sure he will soon help us.”  
This one was less honest. But one thing is sure: Robert is alive. If he was not, Stannis would know. They have not received any news and of course, are unable to send ravens. Stannis did not even try: he has seen two ravens, a few weeks apart from each others, trying to reach the castle, and getting killed by the archers of his enemies. He would never know what the letters would say. What he does not know is that the enemy could not know either, the letters stained by the blood of the raven, when the other one has fallen into the sea. The soldiers had not bothered themselves to look for it, and have burnt the other message. Back in Renly’s room, the boy nods slowly and Stannis stands up:  
“As soon as it is ready, I will bring you food, alright?”  
The boy closes his eyes but nods. Cressen smiles and nods at Stannis, and he walks out of the room, leaning against the closed door a second, before going to his men.


	20. The weddings

Riverrun, 283 AC

Lord Tully decides to start negotiations with Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn: they last for several weeks. Eddard and Jon have joined Riverrun after the Battle of Ashford, where Robert has known his first defeat: Eddard had joined Winterfell and Robert managed to unite his forces with him and Jon Arryn’s. Then, they had started talks with Lord Tully, and managed to find an agreement: Hoster would join his forces to the Rebels.   
Today, the Tully children are all reunited to bid farewell to their father and uncle, dressed up in his armor, ready to leave to the battle. Lysa is the only one who does not cry, and refuses to kiss her father goodbye. As they watch them and the army walking away, Lysa gets back in without a word, and Catelyn comforts the two little children, Aylis and Edmure. Riverrun becomes stern and sad, the children not being up to laugh and have fun with their father away in such terrible times. Aylis feels desperate and cries almost every day, realizing she could lose both her father and the man she loves. The words her father spoke when she tried to convince him to fight alongside the Rebels have not been forgotten, yet forgiven. It has been imprudent from them both to tell their father what to do: he is a Lord, and knows what is best for his people. Aylis is more determined now than ever to prove him wrong. She misses Stannis’s letters, and often reads the previous ones again, imagining him writing to her. She wonders how he is now, how he copes with the war. No one knows if he is still alive, but she knows it. She feels it in her heart. And she is sure that the loyalists would not miss an opportunity to claim everywhere the brother of the rebel is dead, if he really is. After spending some time alone in her room, Aylis decides to join Edmure and Cat: they need to be united and strong, more than ever.   
The children cannot count how many weeks their father spend away from them: they just receive a raven one day, written by their uncle, stating that their father has been wounded, not deadly although, by Jon Connington in the Battle of the Bells. Robert, injured in the battle before, has sought refuge in Stoney Sept, and, from there, the Rebel army has joined him to get him back. The Loyalists and the Rebels have fought fiercely in the town, but Robert has healed from his wounds and has joined his army, fighting Jon Connington in a duel, almost killing him. The Rebels have won the battle, Brynden writes, and Jon Arryn’s cousin has died. At this point, the handwriting changes, and they recognize their father’s one, but more shaky than usually. The children beam and read eagerly: there are just a few lines, writing to Catelyn and Lysa. They say that Jon Arryn needs an heir, and that Hoster has promised him Lysa’s hand. As for Catelyn, he precises he would follow the old tradition that says the next in line needs to marry his eldest sibling’s betrothed, in case he would not live long enough to marry her. Thus, Cat is promised to Lord Eddard Stark, now heir of Winterfell. The girls are not overjoyed; more relieved to know their father is well and will soon come back at them, at least for a time. When they live for dinner, Lysa is as white as a sheet, and Cat starts talking about Eddard. They have seen him, once, during the Tourney of Harrenhal, but Cat couldn’t take her eyes off Brandon back then, and has barely noticed his brother.   
During the following days, Lysa does not eat anything: she has not forgotten Petyr and she knows this betrothal to Lord Arryn sounds like the death of her relationship with Petyr. She writes to him, desperate, begging him to come and abduct her as Rhaegar has done with Lyanna Stark. He answers her, but avoids the subject, saying he is sure Jon would be a perfect husband for her. She cries her eyes out when she receives the letter, and does not answer.   
When Hoster, Eddard and Robert reach Riverrun, the four children are here to welcome them. Forgetting about the protocol, they rush in their father’s arms, except for Lysa, of course. She glares at him, and curtseys respectfully in front of the one who will soon be her husband. Jon bows back, smiling at her. The wedding is organized for the following day and Lysa thinks about throwing herself from the window: Jon is already old, and she thinks he is ugly. Jon is forty years older than her; could her father not find a more suitable man for her? She is convinced it is her father’s punishment for having slept with Petyr, and having been pregnant with his child. The Starks and the Arryns are not the only ones who battle with her father, and Eddard has a younger brother. She spends her night crying and pitying herself and the awful life she will lead with this man.   
Catelyn, on the contrary, is pretty pleased with her new betrothed: shorter than Brandon, he is also less handsome, but he has a sweet smile and looks calmer and gentler than his dead brother. She sleeps fast during the night, and lets her handmaids prepare her the following morning. She gets in the Sept with Lysa, unable to notice how her sister looks miserable. But Jon, even if he is old, looks sweet and nice, and Lysa should be happy to become the Lady of the Eyrie soon. She obviously does not care, and Cat decides to enjoy her wedding day, without thinking about her sister. Their husbands have to leave the day after, to get back to the war. Catelyn silently hopes Eddard will survive this and will come back to her, so they live happy and in peace in Winterfell.   
After the ceremony, they all gather for a feast, and, as he laughs and smiles watching the people dance, Robert’s eyes stop on Aylis. Overjoyed to see her father again, the little girl has been a ray of sunshine since they are here. Dancing with her sisters and her brother, her laugh rings out in the Great Hall and Robert motions her to join him. She glances at her sisters and giggles before obeying and curtseys in front of Robert:  
“My Lord”, she greets him.   
“What a beauty you already are, child! How old are you?” Robert asks.   
“I have turned 8 on my last name day, my Lord”, she answers politely, her cheeks red with the dance, her chest rising up and down fast.   
Robert takes her little hand in his and lays a slight kiss on it, making her blush:  
“I am sure you will find a great man to marry with. As long as he is not a Targaryen, right, Lord Tully?” Robert grabs his cup and drinks a large gulp of wine, before laughing with his own joke. Most of the men follow him and Aylis says:  
“Oh! I do not wish to marry a Targaryen, my Lord!”  
“Lord Tully, you have the most perfect girl of Westeros!!” Robert shouts and laughs again. But Hoster does not: he glares at Aylis, and, with a movement of his head, makes her understand that it is better if she joins her siblings. The girl curtseys and obeys, Robert still watching her. As she goes back to her dance, he takes his chair and sits by Hoster:  
“Tell me, have you found a husband for this one?” he points at Aylis, holding a cup of wine.   
Lord Hoster shakes his head politely:  
“She is too young.”  
Robert wraps his arm around his shoulders:  
“You have united your house with the Arryns and the Starks, but you miss the most important house! Mine!!”  
He laughs again and Hoster smiles politely:  
“Explain yourself, Lord Baratheon. I am scared I do not understand.”  
“You have a single daughter. I have two brothers. Damn, I would marry her myself, if I was not already betrothed!” he laughs again.   
And suddenly, Hoster sees the way of making a very profitable marriage, as a way of making at least two of his daughters happy. He holds back a smile and turns to Robert:  
“Stannis, then?”  
“Stannis”, Robert nods. “If this killjoy survives the war. If he dies, Renly will be perfect.”  
Hoster nods and shakes Robert’s hand:  
“I wish I would wait the end of the war to let her know, if it is okay with you, my Lord.”  
“Of course! They will be married when she will have bled.”  
Robert slaps gently his back and laughs again. Hoster takes his cup, clings it with Robert’s and drinks, a smile roving on his lips as he watches his daughters dancing.


	21. Sacrifice

Storm’s End, 283 AC  
Stannis is woken up by a hand shaking him violently. He sits up in bed and turns to the soldier who has gotten into his chamber. “My Lord, we are attacked”, the soldier says breathless. Stannis swiftly leaves his bed, and puts his armor on, before joining his men on the battlements of the castle. From time to time, the Tyrells decide to launch an attack on the castle. Every time, Stannis and his men manage to repel them, but their forces are weaker and weaker. Once again, the Tyrells are defeated, and go back to their camp right in front of the castle. There are dozens of dead men among the castle’s soldiers, and they burn the bodies, unable to bury them properly. Stannis visits the wounded soldiers and he sees Donal Noye, Storm’s End’s smith, sit against a wall, breathing hardly and his left arm really in a bad state. The young Lord kneels next to the man, who forces himself to smile:  
“Don’t worry, my Lord. I’ll be fine.”  
Stannis calls at Cressen and looks worriedly at him as he examines the man’s arm. Noye has forged his first swords, and Robert’s war hammer. They both think highly of him. He was welcoming them warmly when they wanted to see him work: Stannis especially, has been very curious when he had told him he was going to forge his sword. He had wanted to be there with every step of it, and Donal had agreed nicely.   
Cressen stands up again, and takes Stannis apart:  
“The wound has started to be infected, my Lord. I will try to stop it, but if I fail… we will need to cut his arm off…” he whispers, not willing Donal would hear this.   
Stannis pales a bit and nods:  
“Do everything you can.”  
“My Lord?”  
He turns to the butcher of the castle:  
“What is it?” Stannis asks.   
Within weeks, everybody has been calling him “my lord” and he has stopped correcting them: Robert is the Lord of Storm’s End. But Robert is not here, and Stannis is the one who gives the orders, who takes care of the soldiers. Until Robert frees them, Stannis is their Lord. The man bows and hastily says:  
“I have just realized the horse meat is almost done, my Lord.”  
Stannis holds back a loud sigh, and walks out with the butcher, to not scare the soldiers uselessly:  
“What else do we still have?”  
The butcher looks down, afraid:  
“Speak up”, Stannis orders.   
“No-nothing my Lord… It’s over…”  
Stannis walks away a moment to think about it. This cannot end like this. And Robert, where the hell is he?... The Tyrells had taunted Stannis by yelling about Robert sharing a feast with Lord Tully in Riverrun, when his brother was starving to death with his men. Stannis had refused to believe them. He turns around again to face the butcher:  
“How long can we hold?”  
“A few days, I would say, my Lord”, the butcher says.   
Stannis nods and goes to see how Renly is.   
He has been with his little brother for a few hours, reading to him, as the young boy is too weak to even hold a book, and a soldier comes in again:  
“My Lord! Come, quick!”  
Renly does not even protest when Stannis leaves:  
“What, now?” he asks the soldier.   
“Deserters, my Lord!” the soldier adds quickly, leading Stannis out.   
Stannis’s heart skips a beat. Deserters. How could it be? He grinds his teeth furiously, and follows the soldier, who leads him to four men. He feels his heart breaking when he recognizes Ser Gawen Wylde, the master-at-arms of Storm’s End, who is obviously the leader of the little group. A knight, ready to surrender to the enemy. The young soldier stands by them:  
“We caught them, my Lord. They were trying to sneak out a postern gate to join the Tyrells.”  
Stannis could ask them why they had done this, but it would be useless. The hunger has been making the men awful things. But had they forgotten he was suffering the same things than them? Had they forgotten he sometimes gave his ration to Renly, because the young boy needed to eat way more than him? He could have almost understood this treason if he would feast alone, and keep all the food for him, but it is not the case. They are unforgivable. The hunger has effects on him too: he has stopped having belly pangs, but sometimes, he had hallucinations and he was more moody than ever. Grinding his teeth, he turns to the young soldiers:  
“Tie them up and place them on a catapult. If they want to join the Tyrells, we will help them do so.”  
“My lord, please!” Ser Wylde begs.   
“How dare you beg me, Ser? I am simply granting your request”, Stannis slyly retorts. He nods at the soldiers and they start strapping them on the catapults, the four deserters begging for their lives.   
“My Lord…”  
Another voice rings out, sweet and calm: Maester Cressen has joined them, and nods at Stannis. The young Lord walks to him and whispers, angrily:  
“What?”  
“We should not waste meat, my Lord” Cressen says, staring at Stannis’s eyes. “Lock them in the cells. They could be useful…later… if the help does not come to us…”  
Stannis stares dumbfounded at the old maester:   
“Are you telling me you want to…eat them?” he asks him, glancing at the four men still begging.   
“We won’t have another choice if we are not freed quickly, my Lord.”  
Disgusted by the thought, Stannis nevertheless turns to his men and orders that they be locked in cells. Cressen nods at him, and the young man goes back to Renly.   
A few days later, he is called by Maester Cressen: Donal’s infection has spread, and the arm needs to be cut off. Donal does not react when Stannis tells him so, and turns his tired face to him:  
“So now my Watch begins?...”  
“You do not have to join the Night’s Watch… We could find you a place in the castle, when the war ends…” Stannis protests weakly.   
“I was made to forge arms, my Lord, you know it. I have loved serving your father and your brother after him. If I make it during this bloody war, I will join the Night’s Watch. I could not stand seeing another man doing my duty. You know I would always be on his back”, he laughs and winces immediately, his arm painful whenever he moves. “Chop this off, my Lord, please…”  
Stannis stands up, gives him a sad look and grabs a chopper. He digs it into a fireplace, and leaves it for a moment before taking the red blade out of it. Donal winces when he sees it:  
“I guess it is gonna be bloody painful…”  
Stannis holds the chopper, as another man places the arm in the good position, making Donal yelp with pain.   
“Ready?” Stannis nods and stands above him. The blacksmith nods fast, Stannis swings the chopper and the yells of the armorer ring out until the ears of Mace Tyrell and his men.


	22. Marry you

!PLEASE READ!

I wanted to warn you readers: I am NOT gonna follow the L+R=J theory. For personal reasons and reasons linked with the future of this fanfiction. Please, don't hate me for this.

Please rate and review, it means a lot to me!

Enjoy this chapter!

Riverrun, 283 AC

The room is quite big, enlightened by candles burning, placed on each corner of it. A little bed is placed against the stone wall; a wooden desk stands against the opposite wall, by the window. It is dark outside, and the moon reflects on the water of the river that runs by the castle. On the bed, three girls are sit one behind each other. The eldest is plaiting a younger one, herself plaiting a much younger girl, sit in front of her. Catelyn winces a bit, and stops plaiting Lisa's hair suddenly, getting pale. Lysa turns to her:

"Are you okay, Cat? You are so pale."

Feeling nauseous, Catelyn rubs her stomach gently: Aylis has turned to her as well, and her sisters look worried. Cat mumbles:

"I'm fine", and goes back to her plaiting.

For a moment, the room is silent and the only sounds we hear is the ones of the soft swishing of the hair and the ribbons wrapped around it to hold the plait back. Aylis turns to her sisters, grinning:

"How does it feel to be married?" she asks excitedly.

Lord Tully has not said anything to his daughters about the arrangement he has concluded with Robert Baratheon. Firstly, because he wants the war to be over to talk about it. Secondly, because he highly doubts Stannis will make it to the end of the war. He does not know the boy very well, but he is besieged for months already, and if, until now, he has held on, nothing says he will not die tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Nothing is certain. Thus, none of his children know about the arranged wedding of Aylis and Stannis.

Lysa shrugs, when Catelyn smiles:

"It is very pleasant… Would be more if the marriage did not occur in the middle of a war", Catelyn explains, placing a lock of hair behind her ear and blushing slightly.

"I can't wait to getting married!" Aylis clasps enthusiastically.

"You have time", Lysa says to refrain her joy. "And you say that because you think you're gonna marry your Stannis."

She says his name with so much disdain Aylis clenches her fists to not jump on her and slap her. Even if she's little, she knows she would beat her easily. But what Lysa says first calms her down immediately:

"Us girls don't marry the man we love. We marry the man we're told to marry."

There is so much sadness in her voice when she says that that Aylis looks down and feels tears in her eyes. She should speak to her father and tell him, for once and for good, that she will never accept to marry another man than Stannis. She will leave to the Silent Sisters if she must, but it will be him or no one. Anyways, she is the youngest. Edmure will inherit Riverrun and Lord Tully will give him a great bride, Cat and Lysa are already allied to the greatest house of the North and the invincible knights of the Vale. The future of the Tully blood look bright, she could not bring much more to it. She looks at Catelyn, who frowns at what Lysa has said, and decides to cheer them up a bit:

"And how is the first time?"

They both wince:

"Bloody painful", Cat says and Lysa, for once, nods approving.

"Oh… Really?... How does it feel like?" she asks.

She has always imagined it to be very romantic and pleasant. Cat frowns again:

"You are too young to think about such things, Aylis. Father will not marry you before you first bled."

"I know! I'm just curious", she protests but barely stops herself from blushing.

Lysa lies down on the bed and shrugs:

"Nothing to be happy about, really. It is painful, it feels like someone is tearing your guts in two. Awful…"

Aylis shivers with horror but then holds back a smile: she is sure Stannis will be sweet and gentle, and would never hurt her. She has already seen Edmure's willie, and there is nothing to worry about. She just nods and Catelyn leaves the bed:

"I don't feel well… I'm gonna see Maester Kym is still awake."

"Alright", Aylis says and they watch their sister leaving silently. Lysa leaves the bed in turn:

"She is pregnant", she softly says, almost sadly again.

"Really?" Aylis grins huge, before losing his smile when Lysa nods slowly.

"How do you know? " Aylis asks suspiciously.

Lysa looks away and quickly invents a lie:

"I remember how Mother was when she was expecting you. She had felt sick at first too, and barely ate. Just like Cat."

Aylis looks like she believes her and she sighs with relief. Lysa looks out by the window, wondering how life is in the Eyrie. She does not love her husband, he is old, pretty ugly and smelly, but at least, with him, she will be far from Riverrun and from her father. Will she stay in touch with her sisters? She does not know, honestly. They would remind her of her father, and she does not know if she could stand it. It is hard enough to look at him, be in the same room than him, pretend being happy with this awful marriage, share his food, and having to hear they owe him everything. In a way, she understands Aylis's haste to get married, even though she knows it has nothing to do with her own motivations. She turns to her little sister and suddenly hugs her tight, which is quite unusual from her. Aylis, after a moment of surprise, wraps her arms around her:

"I will go to bed. Goodnight, little sister", she whispers with the softest voice she has ever used to talk to Aylis.

"Goodnight Lysa. I love you", Aylis whispers with a smile.

Lysa kisses her head, and walks out of the room to join her bedroom. Aylis waits for Cat for a while, but she does not come back, and she walks through the corridors to join her warm bed. She pushes the door of her room and steps in. Moving the white sheets away, lighting a candle; she slips in and shivers slightly when the warmth of the bed touches her cold feet. She stares at the weak flame on her candle and wonders, as every night when she goes to bed, if Stannis is okay, if he is alive, if he does think about her. He probably does not, she knows it, he is a man, he is at war, and has to protect his castle and his people from his enemies. She admires him so much for doing so, she admires men in general. People say women have to cope with a lot of things, but men have to as well. She closes her eyes when tiredness becomes too strong to fight, and whispers "Goodnight, Stannis", before drifting off to a sleep filled with dreams of him.


	23. Destinies

Storm's End, 283 AC

The castle is silent since a few days: horse meat has been eaten completely, and the men are now slowly starving. No one speaks, or moves more than necessary. The smell of urine and shit spread everywhere, as some men cannot hold themselves back anymore, is awful. Leant against the stone walls, staying in their own faeces, the men are dying slowly.

As their commander, Stannis must remain strong, but it is more and more difficult, even for him. His eyes look like two big holes in the middle of his scrawny face, he has started to lose his hair because of malnutrition and his ribs can be seen when he is shirtless. This morning, when the men have not eaten anything since a week, he walks down to them, and says to the strongest of them:

"Soldiers, kill the cats."

"The… the cats, my Lord?" their eyes shine with greed.

Stannis nods:

"The dogs can be useful in case we are attacked once more. And, if the siege keeps going, the rats will be eaten as well. Without the cats, there will be a lot of them. So kill the cats. All of them."

The soldiers nod back and the first cat they take suffers awfully. The men are so hungry they barely even cook the meat. They grab it, ten of them, and eat it alive, the poor animal screaming with pain and terror. Luckily, there are hundreds of cats in the whole castle and, once the men have eaten a bit; they kill them in cleaner ways, with arrows and knives.

Stannis brings food to Cressen and Renly, both lied down in beds. Maester Cressen had collapsed a few days ago, and Stannis, since then, has refused him to stand up or do anything. When a man is injured, he goes to Cressen. The maester shoud not leave his bed, or this room. He is too weak.

They want to eat eagerly when they see the food and Stannis tries to restrain them the best he can. He understands their hunger, but eating too fast could only make them sick, and throwing up would not help them gaining forces. He decides to give them food, himself, holding a spoon and feeding them as he would do with a baby. Renly almost cannot open his mouth anymore, and Stannnis needs to gather his whole patience to feed them. When the plates are empty, they beg for more, but Stannis tells them they need to wait for a few hours. Renly falls asleep soon, and Stannnis sits by Cressen:

"How do you feel?" he asks him.

The maester takes his hand and squeezes it weakly. Stannis leans his own hand on his and tries to smile:

"You know what I would like, Stannis?" the weak voice of the maester says, so weakly Stannis has to lean down to hear him.

"No, tell me", Stannis whispers.

"I want to see you laugh, at least once. I want to see you happy, boy", Cressen says, his eyes watering suddenly. He tries to regain his composure, and Stannis whispers:

"I have no reason to laugh right now, Cressen. I know what you mean, and I thank you for caring about me. When everything will be over, maybe I'll find a reason to be happy."

The young Lord wishes so much to fulfill Cressen's wish, but he cannot pretend. He has never known how to do so, and he is not sure he wants to know how to do. Maybe he'll survive this war and be happy, one day. Maybe he'll die here, with his men. Maybe even his men would mutiny against him and sends his head to the Tyrells. Nothing is certain. Nothing is predictable.

Cressen nods slowly:

"I love you, Stannis. You are my favorite, among your brothers. I know I should not have one, but I cannot help it."

Stannis does not like this speech: it sounds like a confession, as if Cressen is giving up on his life. He holds the maester's hand in his tighter:

"I forbid you to die. You understand?"

Cressen smiles slightly and stares at the eyes of his master:

"I remember when you were born. There was a terrible storm this night, and your mother wanted to have the windows opened. Sometimes, we were receiving some water from the ocean. The candles were burning by her. She was brave, so brave, Stannis… And, when you came out, it was almost on your own. You looked at me, you didn't cry, you stared at each of us, your eyes wide opened… Then you crawled and found your mother's breast alone. You have always been strong Stannis. Stronger than Robert, stronger than Renly. Always…"

The young man stares back at him, unable to say whatsoever, moved by this story of course. He has never heard it, but the moment Cressen decides to tell him scares him. He repeats:

"You will not die."

Stannis… the Maester thinks. Stannis, why are you so cold? Why do you hide your feelings so much? Why do you hide from me, when I have known you since you were born? Why don't you allow yourself to be sweet, to be a boy, when you have tried your whole life to act like a man?

He keeps his thoughts to himself and, as Stannis stands up again, he looks at him, and turns on a side to watch him leave. He closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep.

Once he is out, Stannis leans against the wall, trying to control the sudden emotion that overwhelms him. He needs a few minutes, where, every time tears come to his eyes, he breathes slowly to stop them. When he feels ready enough, he joins his men again but walks directly to the aviary. They had eaten the crows, and the only birds that remain are Proudwing and Thunderclap. Stannis opens their cage and makes them stand on his forearm, side by side. He walks to the far end of the castle, checks on the Tyrell forces: they are feasting, drinking and laughing. The moment is ideal. He gets to the first floor, and opens a window carefully. Thunderclap immediately flies away to the trees, when Proudwing looks at his master with big eyes.

"You need to go", Stannis whispers, his folded finger stroking the soft feathers.

Proudwing cries softly but does not move:

"Come on. I cannot feed you. You're big enough to take care of yourself", Stannis says, holding his arm by the window.

She still doesn't move and holds tighter on him when he moves his arm. He stays there for a few minutes, begging, threatening her, but she does not move and he ends up using violence, regretfully. He slaps her head, first gently, and she protests, bites his finger, but still does not fly away. Stannis sighs and does it brutally a second time, and this time, Proudwing cries louder and flies away. In a minute, she has disappeared and Stannis hates himself for what he has done. What choice has he? She would have died starving, it is difficult enough to feed the men, and he cannot waste food for her or for Thunderclasp. He leaves back to his men and, the following day, they find a dead rabbit in the courtyard. They cook it of course, even though it can barely feed a few men, and Stannis gives the meat to the weakest of his men. Once he is alone, he goes back to the window, and smiles slightly as he stares at the trees facing him.


	24. Cat & Aylis

Riverrun, 283 AC

The night is dark, huge threatening clouds darkening the sky of the Riverlands. Sit by the window, Aylis cannot resolve herself to sleep. She stares at the landscape in front of her, guessing, despite the bad weather, the shapes of the trees, the sound of the two rivers running around the castle. She hears the sound of her door opening and she sees Cat walking in. She looks surprised to see her little sister still awake. Aylis smiles huge when Cat joins her, and her eyes immediately wander to her bump, which is pretty obvious now. The eldest daughter of Lord Tully holds her kidneys as she sits down and winces slightly.

"Are you okay, Catelyn?" Aylis asks worried.

She is always scare something is wrong with the baby. Catelyn smiles at her:

"I am fine, Aylis, thank you. I just feel so heavy and fat", she makes a face. Aylis takes her hand:

"You are gorgeous, Cat", she says very sincerely.

Pregnancy has turned Cat into a real woman: she had grown up all of a sudden, her breasts have developed quickly and her hips have grown larger. Aylis has been excited right from the start when she learnt that Cat was going to have a baby. Seeing how young she is, it would mostly sound like a little brother than a nephew to her. Edmure has been pretty distant from this moment, and Aylis thinks it's because it's hard for him to realize Catelyn is gonna soon be more a wife to Ned and a mother to this baby than his sister. Lysa has been cold as always, repeating all the time she cannot wait to leave for the Vale. Is she jealous of Cat? Aylis thinks so, but why? Lysa will be pregnant soon too, she is young and men can father children way later than women. Aylis has decided to stop worrying about her: she is acting so nastily towards everyone, their father, their brother, the maids, everyone. Secretly, everyone is eager to see her leave. But the war lasts: they don't have news from their father, riding alongside with Robert and Ned Stark. She remembers the night of the wedding of her sisters: she had thought Robert was very handsome, and had wondered why Lyanna Stark would run away from him to go with a man who looked nothing like human. She shivers when she remembers how Aerys looked like during the Tourney of Harrenhal. She hopes, with all her heart, that this King is going to die, and that her family will be safe. She is brought back to reality when Cately gasps loudly:

"What is it?" she swiftly turns to her.

"The baby is kicking!" Cat exclaims, squealing with joy and surprise.

She swiftly grabs Aylis's hand and places it on her bump. Aylis stares at it, waiting. And suddenly, against her hand, she feels the baby moving, not only kicking, as if he was turning around in his mother's womb.

"Gods", she whispers, marveled at the feeling and looks up at Catelyn.

"How does it feel?" she asks her, not moving her hand away.

"It feels honestly weird", her sister confesses. "But it means the baby is healthy, and strong. That's what Maester Kym and Maester Luwin say."

Aylis nods at her and keeps stroking her belly. Maester Luwin is the Maester of Winterfell but he has been sent here to care for the future heir of Winterfell. He doesn't have much to do though: Catelyn is fine, the baby is too and everything is made to turn this pregnancy as comfortable as possible.

"We should go to bed", Aylis ends up saying after a long silence, and slips her hand off her sister's belly.

Catelyn nods silently and kisses her sister's cheek before heading to her own bedroom.

A few weeks later, while Catelyn is closer and closer to give birth, they receive a raven from their father, writing down to them that Rhaegar Targaryen has been killed during a battle, and that the war was almost won. He is fine, he precise, but most men have died. Then, apart from the main letter, a smaller one where he explains how the battle occurred to Edmure, who reads fascinated. The booming voice of Robert commanding his men, Ser Lyn Corbray destroying the Dornishmen and killing their prince, Lewyn, the loyalist army broke and leaderless after Rhaegar's death, running back to King's Landing with the survivors, and then, Barristan Selmy, one of the men the most loyal to Prince Rhaegar, healed by Robert's own maester when most of Robert's men advised him to kill him. But Robert rewards bravery, maybe to his own expense. Behind Edmure, Aylis reads the description of the battle, as fascinated as her brother. She would have loved to be a boy for that, for knowing how to use a sword, killing all the men she would have hate. But, then, she would have died too, and her sisters would have grieved for her, leaving their father heartbroken. She is happy to be a girl, she thinks. Women bring life on Earth, and men take it away. She turns to Catelyn, crying with joy to know that their father will soon be home again. But Aylis knows that King's Landing needs to be taken first, and Aerys will not let the Rebels do without fighting them without pity. She shivers at this thought, and wraps her arms around herself.

Walking to the window, she leans her head on Cat's shoulder, and her thoughts wander to Stannis, still besieged at Storm's End. Soon, his brother will free him, and at this moment, she could talk to her father about her wish to marry him. He is a grown man, and she is only a child, but she will grow up, and if he is willing to wait for her, she will make him happy. She knows she will. He will see her, realize how beautiful she is, and he will tell her father he agrees on marrying her, and everything will be alright.


End file.
